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Tommy leaves Buck sitting alone in his apartment wondering how on earth he managed to ruin yet another relationship by trying to make it stronger.
I’m not your last echoes in Buck’s head. Because if he wasn’t going to be Buck’s last, who was? Sure, he was his first boy friend, but he sure as hell wasn’t his first relationship – and honestly, Buck is getting pretty sick and tired of not being anyone’s last. Every time he tries to take the next step they always crash and burn. How long is it going to take until someone finally cares enough about him to try? Buck thinks maybe that might just be too hard.
He sits at his kitchen counter until the moonlight starts casting soft shadows onto his hands. He’s gone through enough breakups in his lifetime, felt everything from grief to anger to shame, but right now he just feels numb. He doesn’t really know what to make of that. He thought at first that it came out of nowhere, but now that he has nothing left to lose he can really picture what his life would have looked like with Tommy, what it was already looking like.
He likes dinner and a movie, he likes casual quality time, but that doesn’t need to be it . He likes doing fun things too, going on adventures. He could swear Tommy and Eddie did more together hanging out for two weeks than him and Buck ever did in six months. He would have been able to get past the engagement to Abby, he kind of already did, but what he couldn’t get past was how he talked about her. Calling her crazy, judging her for dating a ‘himbo’ half her age while he was in front of Buck doing the exact same thing with the same person. The present . He appreciates the thought, he really really does. Yet at the same time, Tommy still not knowing he doesn’t really like basketball stings the most.
The worst voice in his brain suggests that maybe he does know, just doesn’t care.
Buck does what he knows he should do, picks himself back up and forces himself to keep going. He grabs his phone from where Tommy had left it, his camera roll still pulled up when he unlocks it. He takes in the pictures of him and Abby for a second, then deletes the album. And at least that relationship finally feels bookended. He pockets his phone and moves from his place at the counter. Before he can even consciously decide what to do, he’s pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys off the hook.
He stops at a convenience store for gas and a six pack on the way, and he feels robotic. Something about the dark skies and the emptying streets make him feel so much more alone. The cashier doesn’t speak to him. As he pulls away from the pump, someone immediately takes his spot.
His body takes him to Eddie’s house. The drive is muscle memory at this point. He passes a group of people coming out of a bar who feel like they’re mocking him. Then he passes a flickering street lamp and he thinks maybe he’ll be okay. In the end, he’s still numb.
Pulling up to Eddie’s is like coming up for air. The cream colors of the walls and the glow of the light from inside coming out the window draw him in, like they’re saying come home, you’re safe here . It always feels like this for Buck, but he thinks the house knows he needs it a little extra tonight. He grabs the beers from the passenger seat and steps out of the car. It’s only when he gets about halfway to the door that he can hear the music. Eddie’s blasting “Old Time Rock & Roll” inside. If Buck wasn’t too caught up in his own troubles, he would smile at the fact that it seemed like his friend was finally doing something . But at this moment, he doesn’t really have the space to think about it.
Ringing the doorbell feels foreign, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to just let himself in like he usually would. Those four words keep circling around and around in Buck’s head, I’m not your last, I’m not your last, I’m not your last . He wishes he could know at what point Tommy realized that. How long he had just been riding it out, making Buck think that they could have a future when really he had already planned for it to end. He’s so sick of trying and failing. He wishes the universe would just give him a sign, a big, blinking, light up, neon sign with an arrow saying, “Here! Here! This one’s your last!”
Then, Eddie flings the door wide open standing there in a button up, popped collar, and– yep, no pants. They’re both going through something tonight, then.
He doesn’t let himself look at the way Eddie pops a leg out just a little bit, showing off the muscles in his thighs. Instead he takes a beer out of the pack and holds it up for him as he walks straight towards the couch. He cracks his own open on the way and holds it to his lips, not stopping until he physically can’t keep chugging it anymore. He sees Eddie climb over the couch from the corner of his eye and feels him settle next to him. Buck sits straight up, completely stiff, staring at nothing in front of him. Eddie sits back, loose, and taking in everything. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, the energy Eddie is exuding, or just being in this house, one of his favorite places, but something starts to make him feel minisculely better.
When the song ends, Eddie’s Spotify chooses another 70’s rock classic, but Buck is too distracted by the events from earlier circling back through his mind to place it. He’s halfway through another beer while Eddie is still nursing his first and humming along to the music. He does his best to push Tommy’s voice out of his thoughts and let Eddie’s take over. By the end of the song, the tension starts to drain from his body.
When the next one starts, a slower, thicker song, Buck lets himself fall back against the couch, brushing shoulders with Eddie. He looks up towards the ceiling and takes a deep breath. He can sense his friend looking over at him, studying him. Eddie moves towards the coffee table, leaving Buck’s shoulder cold, and grabs his phone. Buck breaks his gaze to watch him return to his spot on the couch, open his phone, and turn off the music. He looks away before Eddie can catch his eyes.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just waits for Buck to be ready. After a long beat of silence only broken by Buck taking another deep breath, he feels fingers brush against the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. Eddie places his hand on the back of his neck, thumb resting in that spot, comfortingly. Finally, Buck meets his gaze and his eyes beg him to speak.
“Tommy got me Lakers tickets,” Buck manages to get out.
Eddie cocks his head, confused, like he wasn’t expecting that to be what Buck was going to say. Which, yeah, it’s a silly detail to get hung up on, but it’s what he can’t stop thinking about.
“For our six month anniversary, he got me Lakers tickets.”
Eddie shifts, sitting up more as if to be more attentive. He furrows his brow, opens his mouth to speak, second guesses himself for a second, then says, “But, you don’t like basketball.”
Buck takes another pull from his beer. Eddie doesn’t even question if he likes basketball or not. He just knows . And that ruins Buck just a bit more.
“No, I really don’t,” He agrees.
“What are you… I mean, are you gonna,” Eddie gathers his thoughts, like he doesn’t know what Buck could do, “Are you gonna tell him that?”
Something in the way that Eddie speaks, in the way he looks at him, tells Buck exactly what he’s thinking. Saying it out loud, to his friend, makes it sound even worse than he’s already feeling about it. It’s been six months and either Tommy didn’t care enough about Buck to know what he is and isn’t interested in, or he just didn’t care enough to get him a present that Buck would actually like. He knows that’s what Eddie is piecing together. Sometimes it felt like Tommy was just indifferent towards him. But in the end one thing comes crashing back to him, so caught up in feeling like a doormat for Tommy’s desires, he forgets the most important thing–
“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess,” Buck speaks, his voice quiet and low like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, “We also broke up, so…”
Eddie’s expression melts and Buck finally feels something other than numbness about the whole thing.
“Oh, Buck, I’m sorry,” He says, and the fingers on Buck’s neck move reflexively, making him close his eyes to memorize the feeling.
“It’s okay, I–” He starts, but saying it in front of Eddie makes it feel like a lie, “Actually, no, it’s not okay.” He puts his beer down on the coffee table, immediately regretting it because it means that Eddie’s hand leaves its place on his neck. But when he leans back with his own hand scrubbing across his face, Eddie’s comes right back. “I don’t know,” Buck sighs and lets his head fall back, his cheek landing right into Eddie’s hold. Neither of them make a move to pull away.
“It was because of the Lakers tickets?” Eddie asks, scrunching his face up in confusion again.
“No, no. I kind of…” Buck cringes, because he already knows what Eddie will say, “Asked him to move in with me.”
“He got you tickets to a game you’re not interested in and you thought, he should move in with me ?”
Buck groans, he feels stupid when it’s put like that. “I know, I’m an idiot, we both know that.”
Eddie sits up fully, puts his own beer on the coffee table, and turns his entire body towards Buck. He brings a leg up onto the cushions to fully face him, and Buck is reminded with a hot flush that runs from his face to his toes that he’s in nothing but underwear. He’s snapped out of that before he can consider what it means because Eddie takes the hand that was gently touching Buck’s face and grips his forearm with purpose.
“Buck, you’re not an idiot,” He says, voice firm, “You care enough to not give up, to try to make things better. Now I don’t know if asking people to move in with you is the best option, but it does not make you an idiot.”
Buck just lets out a self deprecating laugh and looks away from his friend.
“You wouldn’t be Buck if you didn’t try.”
And Eddie is looking at him so earnestly, so open, so loving that Buck just breaks. His throat feels tight and tears threaten to break through, but at the same time, Eddie sitting in front of him, holding onto him, helps him keep everything together.
“When he broke up with me, Tommy, he said that because he was my first he wouldn’t be my last ,” He chokes out, “But if it’s not going to be him, or Natalia, Taylor, or even Abby , who will it be? When is someone going to care enough about me to want to try? I just– I feel like I’m running out.”
Of time, of people, he doesn’t know. He just knows that with each failure his odds get worse and worse.
“You’re not, Buck, I promise,” Eddie whispers, “Someone is going to realize you’re too good to give up on. God knows I have.”
Buck closes his eyes. He thinks that Eddie might be one of the only people that truly see him for who he is and still want to stick around. Regardless of having a boyfriend or girlfriend or not, he never feels alone, he has Eddie. He doesn’t know what he would do without him. A single tear escapes and soft fingers immediately brush it away.
“Thank you,” Buck whispers, opening his eyes and giving Eddie a soft smile. He gives Buck one right back. They sit like that for a while, Eddie’s big brown eyes boring into Buck’s. He feels better. It’s not going to take one night to forget about Tommy, or forget about the insecurities that he brought back to the forefront, but for right now he feels better. Enough to finally process the state of his friend.
“So,” He starts, breaking the silence with a teasing voice, “What happened to your pants?”
Eddie looks down at himself like he forgot, then laughs, the free smile that was on his face when he opened the door coming back. “A priest told me to do something frivolous.”
Now it was Buck’s turn to look confused, “So you were… listening to music in your underwear?”
“No,” Eddie laughs, “I was dancing . It’s from–”
“ Oh , Risky Business,” Buck interrupts, putting two and two together. Eddie looks at him like he has just grown a second head.
“Wait,” His smile somehow manages to grow even wider, “You actually know a movie reference? This has never happened before.”
It’s true, Buck rarely understands Chim’s references. At least, most of them. There have been one or two that he has actually seen, thank you very much, but he likes to mess with him anyways. Risky Business, though, he has actually watched.
“It’s one of your favorite movies,” Buck shrugs like that’s an obvious reason why he would know it. To him, it is. He watched it after he found out how much Eddie likes it, and then he watched it again to really get a feel for it.
Eddie just keeps staring at him with that smile. Suddenly every worry, every hint of pain that he brought with him into the house was gone, replaced with warmth and light. Because Eddie was looking at him like that , in a way that he hasn’t looked in years, or maybe ever. As long as Buck has known him, Eddie has carried around the weight of something . He could never really figure out what it was, but now it’s gone and he thinks he’s finally looking at the Eddie that he was always meant to see.
Suddenly, Eddie, looking like he’s made some kind of decision in his head, gets up off the couch and stands in front of Buck. He picks up his phone, taps on it for a second, and then a song starts blaring through the speakers again. Some pop song with a dramatic piano intro Buck has never listened to before.
“I heard this song on the radio on my way to work the other day,” Eddie explains, “I downloaded it, but I never listened to it again. I kinda felt like I had to save it for something.”
Eddie starts to dance as the music picks up, and Buck just looks dumbly up at him.
“C’mere,” Eddie pleads, still dancing, but holding both his hands out for Buck to take. He makes grabbing motions at him until Buck breaks into a smile and takes them. He’s pulled off the couch and into a spot in the living room with a bit more room to move. Eddie goes back to dancing, jumping and spinning around, but always turning back to watch Buck who’s stuck in place.
Eventually, Eddie seems to get tired of dancing alone and gets up in Buck’s space. He pokes and pushes at him until he laughs and says, “What are we doing ?”
“We’re being joyful ,” Eddie responds with so much earnestness that Buck can’t bear to let him dance alone any longer. He practically cheers when Buck starts to move. If it would mean Eddie would be this happy always, Buck would dance until his feet fell off.
He’s so beautiful like this, Buck thinks, and that thought almost makes him trip over his feet. It’s not a revelation, it’s not a shock to his system, in fact, realizing he’s in love with Eddie feels as natural as the soft light welcoming him to the house when he parks outside, the warm touch of fingers against his neck, and a voice telling him that everything is going to be okay. He understands now why his throat closed up when Josh asked if he was in love with Tommy, why he got so jealous about Tommy and Eddie hanging out all those months ago. Tommy was right, he was never going to be Buck’s last.
Another song by the same artist comes after, and Buck does actually recognize it. He found it a couple years ago and couldn’t get himself to stop listening to it for about a month straight. He never played it in front of anyone, though, not even Eddie. He kept it as a secret guilty pleasure until now, but he can’t think of any reason why. Now, he starts singing along, making Eddie whip around from where he had climbed up onto the coffee table. Buck gets up onto the table next to him, kicking over an empty beer bottle and almost tripping himself, but Eddie grabs him before he can. They stay like that, hands on each other, dancing like they’re white girl wasted at the club in the middle of Eddie’s living room. Buck has never felt more alive.
The song ends and they pause as the next one starts to build. Eddie’s hands rest on Buck’s biceps and Buck notices at some point he put his on Eddie’s waist. They stand there looking at each other, breathing heavily and sweating, and Buck swears he sees Eddie glance down at his lips for a split second. A self destructive side of him thinks that right now would be a perfect time to–
“Did she just say get it hot like Papa John ?” Eddie giggles, stopping Buck from doing whatever the hell he was about to think of. The beat has picked up again and Eddie lets go of him to try out more ridiculous dance moves. He makes his way off of the table and around to the other side of the couch, sending Buck blinding smiles the entire time. Buck dramatically jumps off the table and puts himself right across from his friend, the couch in between them.
Buck loves him. He loves him when he’s at work saving lives. He loves him when he’s dropping his son off with him unannounced. He loves him when he’s going through the worst things that a person could go through. He loves him when he’s sitting next to him saying nothing. He loves him when he’s not around. And he especially loves him right now.
They dance and laugh and climb on top of furniture and almost knock over a lamp more than once. Buck spins Eddie around and Eddie chases him around the room. He couldn’t tell you how long they have been doing this, but he knows he never wants it to end.
Eddie backs into him as the song comes to an end, unintentionally pressing his back to Buck’s chest. Buck winds an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. The next song that plays is a slower one, it makes the air around them feel thick. Eddie turns around in Buck’s hold and wraps his own arms around him. He hooks his chin over Buck’s shoulder and tucks his face in. They’re both panting and giggling and Buck feels like he’s melting away to nothing. He wouldn’t want to do this with anyone other than Eddie. That thought makes him start to tear up again.
(Eddie thinks of juice, dancing, how those are both great metaphors, but what he was really denying himself is right here in front of him, tucked in his arms.)
He tries to hide it, but the cold tip of Eddie’s nose against the crook of his neck, the sureness of the arms wrapped around him, and the soulful voice of the woman singing through the speakers overwhelms him. He buries his face in Eddie’s hair and lets the tears fall. It’s only when he audibly sniffs that Eddie pulls away, keeping his hands linked around Buck’s neck. Buck’s fall to his waist again and he almost pulls away at the feeling of bare skin where his shirt has bunched up, almost.
“Hey,” Eddie says softly, “Talk to me.”
Buck has never felt more vulnerable in his life. He’s also never felt more safe.
“I think you’re the only person I haven’t scared off by showing all of myself,” Buck admits.
“You’ll never scare me off,” Eddie moves his hands from around his neck to cup Buck’s cheeks, “ Never , Buck. There’s nothing you could say or do that would lose me, at least not for long.”
He adds the last part with a teasing look, and Buck can’t help the small smile it brings back.
“I love you,” Eddie breathes. They’ve told each other this before, they’re best friends, but Buck thinks that this time, Eddie looks a little more terrified than when he says it casually. “I love you, warts and all… Or should I say boils and all?”
Eddie gets a laugh out of him this time, and Buck rolls his eyes, “ Okay. ”
“I’m serious, though,” Eddie’s smile gets fonder, but his voice grows more definitive, “I love you . I love every part of you. I love how smart you are and when you text me fun facts in the middle of the night. I love going to work because I get to see you and I love coming home because odds are I’ll probably get to see you there too. I love how much my son loves you. I love how much you hate basketball . Buck, I love you . I’ve met almost every version of you and I’ve never been afraid.”
Buck wonders for a moment if that priest gave Eddie mind reading powers or if they both just spent that entire dance party thinking about how much they care about each other.
He thinks he’s catching the deeper meaning that Eddie is trying to project, but he can’t bear to be wrong. He can’t ruin this, this is all he has. Eddie may have said that he couldn’t do anything to lose him, but being wrong about this could potentially make him into a liar. But then Eddie is definitely looking down at his lips and Buck instinctively tightens his grip on his waist, once again being reminded that he’s only wearing underwear . A flush runs through his entire body and he lets out a shaky breath.
“Just,” Eddie whispers, “Tell me if this isn’t okay.”
And then Eddie is kissing him and Buck is finding out that the ridiculous trope in movies where someone gets kissed and hears fireworks in their head is actually real. It’s simple and chaste, but it feels better, more right than kissing anyone ever has. Buck thinks he might be dreaming, and if he is, the universe is the cruelest it has ever been because he is going to wake up absolutely ruined . Then, Eddie parts his lips to deepen the kiss and Buck is decidedly not dreaming. It takes every fiber of his being to pull away.
“Wait, Eddie, I can’t– I can’t be your first. Tommy said–”
“I don’t care what Tommy said,” Eddie whines, he looks at Buck with dark eyes, “It’s bullshit. You can be my first and my last because I love you enough to try .”
Buck dives back in, pulling Eddie in impossibly closer with one hand, and cradling his jaw with the other. Eddie has his in Buck’s hair. He tries to push everything he feels for Eddie into one kiss, prays that he understands, that he doesn’t think this is just some kind of rebound for Buck. He’s too important for that. It’s objectively not very good because Buck cannot stop smiling, but that doesn’t stop either of them. Eddie bites at his bottom lip and he takes everything in like a man starved. Then, something in the back of his mind lights up and he pulls away again.
“ Buck ,” Eddie groans and tries to go back in, but Buck stops him.
“Where the hell is your mustache?” Buck questions, squinting at him. He has no idea how he’s only just now noticing this.
“Shaving it off was kind of part of this whole,” Eddie gestures in between them, “Process.”
“I’m kinda disappointed, I’m not gonna lie,” Buck pouts, “It looked really really good.”
Then it was Eddie’s turn to pout.
“Don’t worry,” Buck continues, smirking, “You’re still super handsome.”
They meet each other in the middle this time. The music is still playing in the background, but it sounds far away. Eddie moves from his lips to trace Buck’s jawline with kisses. He lingers in one spot for long enough that Buck knows he’ll be getting teased during their next shift.
“Do we–” Buck tries to speak, but then Eddie comes back up to his mouth, “Do we need to talk about you? ” He manages to get out in between. Clearly Eddie has been going through some kind of religious slash sexuality based reformation and he’s just spent the entire night reassuring Buck .
Eddie puts barely centimeters of space between them when he answers, “Later, okay? I’ve never been better, trust me.”
“Okay.” Buck captures his lips once again. He pulls away after only one kiss.
“For the love of God, Buck, please –”
“I love you too, just for the record,” He grins.
They’ll talk about everything in the morning. What it means for Eddie and for
them
. For right now, Eddie finally feels like he can take a true, deep breath, and Buck thinks he can actually imagine what his future is going to look like.