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If you were to ask Eddie, he would tell you that Evan Buckley getting dumped by Tommy Kinard was about the most illogical thing he’d ever heard.
Unlike everyone else Buck had ever dated, Eddie actually liked Tommy, but that didn’t mean that he thought Tommy was in Buck’s league or anything. For a start, because Buck was lively and passionate and excitable and Tommy was… well, he was funny, and smart enough, but he was sardonic and too cool to be interested in things and while Eddie could understand the appeal of both, in his mind, there was no denying that Buck’s earnestness and loyalty and passion was worth a shitload more than Tommy’s coolness or whatever.
But when Buck turned up with two beers and a kicked puppy expression, it didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened.
Buck didn’t say the words, just sat beside Eddie on the couch. And Eddie… he had to figure out what he was meant to do.
He was pantless, moustacheless and totally clueless about how to comfort Buck.
On any other day, he’d be more attuned to Buck’s sadness. But he was still buzzing about the dance, and the newfound freedom that had hit him.
He wished he knew how to pull Buck into what he was feeling, rather than the other way around. He wish he knew how to make him happy.
But the song had ended, and they sat in silence, and Eddie wasn’t going to push Buck to talk.
It was rare for Buck to close up in his sadness rather than spilling to anyone who would listen and console him. So if he needed space, Eddie could give him space. He loved Buck too much to make it worse for him by shoving him towards talking when he wasn’t ready.
Eddie trusted that Buck would talk to him when he wanted to.
But after forty minutes of silent beer drinking and staring into the abyss, Eddie had had enough.
He got to his feet, grabbing his phone where it had been plugged into a speaker and playing his eighties playlist at large.
When Livin’ On A Prayer started, Eddie, who apparently had no shame when it came to Buck, started to swing his hips. He kept his back to Buck until the words began, dramatically singing along to the words and dancing his way towards Buck. Admittedly, it wasn’t particularly good dancing, but that was okay. It wasn’t meant to be.
This was about joy. This was about giving Buck even a little of his joy.
Rather than dancing around his coffee table, he got onto it, dropping to his knees in a dramatic air guitar bit, before sliding off the table and reaching out his hands to Buck.
He kept his hips swaying as he did, brows raised challengingly at Buck.
They were coming up on the first chorus, and Buck was just staring at Eddie’s outstretched hands.
He arced up, singing louder when the — appropriate — “We got each other and that’s a lot for love” lyrics played, grabbing Buck’s hand and yanking him hard to his feet.
Buck did swing to his feet, nearly falling right into Eddie, who took the opportunity to grab him and spin them both around together, arms around Buck’s entire body, effectively pinning his arms by his side. Buck was laughing, albeit he sounded like he was trying to pretend to be far more irritated by Eddie’s behaviour than he was.
Obviously, Buck was almost certainly shocked by Eddie’s dancing, since this wasn’t something that he ever did.
But Eddie thought that maybe it was that that had gotten Buck to get out of his own head and stand up.
And, despite himself, when the chorus started playing, Buck sang with him.
Neither of them was a good singer, they were both a little off-key and a lot too focused on jumping around to sound good.
But Buck was laughing as he sang, and he was jumping around the space with Eddie, and the smile on his face seemed, despite everything, genuine.
They got to the second verse and — shit. Eddie forgot the song had fucking Tommy’s name in it.
Tommy whispers ‘Baby, it’s okay, someday’.
Buck’s expression fell, and Eddie was quick to try to get him to smile again, grabbing Buck’s hand and swinging it up so that Eddie could spin himself under it playfully, pulling at Buck to indicate that he wanted to do the same.
Buck did, but the moment was a little tempered by the knowledge that… well, obviously, Buck was upset.
But he was still dancing, so Eddie took it as a win, hoping he could get Buck’s spirits back up if he really tried hard enough.
When I Wanna Dance With Somebody came on next,Eddie ran through the lyrics in his head, trying to make sure it didn’t also have Tommy’s name. When he came up short for any reference, he threw himself into dancing instead.
He skidded around the room in his socks, spinning on the spot and gesturing to Buck again and again. He needed to keep him engaged, and the best way to do that was to be as ridiculous and as lively as possible. He knew that Buck fed off of other peoples’ energy, and he knew that Buck would want to be happy with Eddie, no matter how sad he initially was.
With every song that passed, they got more and more upbeat, and Buck seemed more and more okay, and Eddie would never stop dancing if it meant Buck would never stop smiling.
He was sure his neighbours would be pissed off at some stage with the blaring music and the two of them outright screaming the words like it was the most normal behaviour in the world.
Between them, Buck and Eddie passed through air guitar, interpretive dance and a period where they did nothing but spin and dip each other over and over again.
Eddie was sweating, and Buck’s face was red from laughter, and Eddie felt like he was finally doing something worthwhile. Like his joy had actually helped to improve his best friend’s mood. He couldn’t fix it for him, but he could make him smile for a while, and that was good, wasn’t it?
They’d been at it for what felt like a long time already when What I Like About You came on.
And that, that was a perfect reminder for Eddie of exactly why he continued to do this. Because it was Buck, and Buck was his best friend. The only person in the world he would’ve partaken in bad karaoke for, other than his own son.
And, just like they had that night, the two of them started to sing. Badly. They danced too, badly.
Like they had that night, they had gotten into a routine of shimmying towards each other, one moving back as the other moved forwards, grinning brightly at each other all the while.
When they got to ‘What I like about you, you keep me warm at night’, Eddie spun Buck under his arm, grabbing at his waist and using his grip to tip Buck back into a dip. Buck held his shoulders, as they’d done a thousand other times while dancing together that evening. Eddie gripped him tight, and he leaned down after him, and Buck’s leg went up and then—
Then Buck looked down at Eddie’s lips. Eddie watched Buck intently.
He was supposed to be chasing joy, right? And what did joy look like? What was joy if not him and Buck, almost completely sober, dancing together so that they could both feel better? What was joy if not them side by side, just like always, going through the good and the bad of life together?
In some ways, Eddie was pretty sure he'd known all along that chasing joy meant chasing Buck. Buck, who had taken one long at Eddie and decided he hated him, but changed his mind just as fast because he wasn't an angry person. He was the man Eddie had come to trust for everything.
Someone who radiated an energy much more intimidating than he actually was. Buck might be 6’2 and built like a brick wall with a sharp jaw and a hard resting expression, but he was the guy who owned approximately 70 aprons and memorised the layout of the zoo for his son.
Everything about Buck was lovable where Eddie was concerned. Even his most ridiculous, impulsive, nonsensical moments.
Even on the days when Eddie was so angry or sad he could scream, his heart seemed to pump his adoration through his veins as easily as it did his blood.
The music blared, but Eddie didn’t really hear it. HIs heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Buck’s ridiculously large body hovered in his arms.
Eddie wanted to kiss him.
Eddie had never looked at a man and had that thought before. Then again, he wasn’t entirely surprised to be having it either. Who else would it be if not Buck?
Buck’s gaze was still on his lips, and his breathing was ragged, and Eddie was willing to take a chance on this. On him. He was willing, just as he’d decided earlier that evening, to seek out joy. It felt sort of… poetic, in a weird way, that it should come to this while this song played. This quintessential BuckAndEddie thing.
Because life was scary. Loving someone was scary. But not acknowledging that love wouldn't make it go away, and it was embedded in Eddie as fundamentally as his soul.
He leaned in closer, slow and gentle, his eyes fluttering closed, his heart in his hands. Buck in his hands. But wasn't that the same thing?
“I asked Tommy to move in with me.”
His heart dropped. Eddie only barely stopped from dropping Buck too. Eddie pulled Buck back onto his feet and practically lept backwards away from him.
Seeking joy. What a stupid fucking idea.
“Oh.”
“He dumped me.”
“Oh.”
They stared at each other. Eddie wished he’d put pants on.
“I, um… is it okay if I stay on your couch tonight? I just— y’know, I hate that fucking loft.” He mumbled, no longer meeting Eddie’s eyes.
And, God, how the fuck could Eddie be so fucking stupid? He’d made everything weird, and he couldn’t fix it without mentioning it, and mentioning it meant admitting what he had been about to do, and admitting that meant…
No, it had been one thing to risk it when he thought he’d seen something. A hint of reciprocation in Buck’s eyes. A hint of… something, in Buck’s eyes. He’d thought they would be taking a risk together.
But suddenly, Eddie felt like he was standing on a cliff all alone, terrified that he was about to plummet off that edge and into the abyss all on his own. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t face that fall alone.
He thought about every time his parents had asked him if his friends jumped off a cliff, would he do so too? The answer, simply, was yes. If Buck went with him, Eddie could make any leap. He could trust fundamentally. Hasn't he already? He and Buck carried each others' lives in their hands daily. Trust was ingrained in their job. If Buck would leap into that abyss, Eddie would keep him company on the way down.
But alone? Alone, Eddie suddenly felt like a coward.
“Yeah,” Eddie smoothed out his stupid pink shirt. “Yeah, of course. Yeah. I’ll, um, I’ll get you some blankets.” He practically ripped the cable out of his phone, walking quickly towards the hall closet to get spare stuff as bedding. He passed by his room, nearly falling over in his desperation to get his sweats on and change into a t-shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror, without his moustache, and he tried hard to bolster himself. He was trying to find pride in who he was. He was trying to find joy in his life again. To find purpose.
He had done something stupid, but it would be forgotten in a few days, surely.
Eddie didn’t even think it meant anything, really. He’d figured out that Buck and Tommy had broken up before Buck had even said it, but… He was being stupid.
Buck had just gotten out of a six months relationship, and an important one.
He had no idea if Buck would even consider anything with anyone at all right then, let alone him.
He was a friend. He could be a friend.
He didn’t even know why he’d wanted to kiss Buck. It had been fleeting. It would be fine.
He moved back to the couch, taking the bedding with him and chucking it out onto the couch for Buck. He turned then, heading to the kitchen and busying himself getting rid of their bottles and getting himself a glass of water. He just needed something to do besides look at Buck.
He realised, in a rush, how fucking terrified he was of seeing rejection in Buck’s eyes. Or something even worse. He wanted to tell himself that it was nothing, but the fear he felt at the prospect of losing Buck was too big and too vivid to ignore.
“Do you… do you want to talk?” Eddie asked, somewhat awkwardly. More awkward than he’d been with Buck in a long time.
“Not really.” Buck admitted. “I’m just… I just thought it was… going somewhere.”
Eddie hummed, glancing at Buck for a moment and then looking away. “Really?” He didn’t mean for it to come out, it just sort of… slipped.
“What’s that meant to mean?” Buck asked, brows pinching. Fuck. Eddie hadn't meant to say it out loud, but it wasn't untrue. No one actually thought Buck and Tommy would stay together.
Buck was, for a start, too earnest for someone like Tommy. Too good.
“Just… I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I just didn’t realise you felt so… seriously about him.”
Buck frowned, and Eddie realised quite suddenly that the mood had shifted. That Buck now seemed… irritated. Or impatient, maybe. He’d fucked up, clearly. It had been insensitive to say, probably, even if it was true. He should've accounted for Buck and his sensitivity. It was one of Eddie's favourite qualities about him.
“Yeah, he said something similar.” Buck grumbled, “That he could be my first but not my last and I was going to— to break his heart or something.”
Something inside of Eddie seemed to wage war at that statement. Part of him wanted to call Tommy a coward for giving up on Buck out of fear of getting left behind. Part of him understood not wanting the crushing feeling of having someone like Buck so close and yet so far out of your reach. Part of him hated thinking that Tommy might actually have had enough of Buck to hurt him like that.
Another new feeling, and one he really, really wanted to put back in the box it had been hiding in before the stupid fucking priest told him to find joy or whatever.
“Oh.” Eddie frowned.
“You keep saying that.” Buck told him, that same irritation in his tone.
Eddie sighed, “I’m sorry, Buck, I don’t know what to say. How can I make you feel better?” He asked, his own brain screaming at him with how stupid and insensitive he’d been.
Failure.
He was trying so hard not to associate that word with himself anymore. Failing, too.
Buck sighed, “I just— I’m just frustrated. I’m going to try to get some sleep.”
“I’m sorry.” Eddie said again. “I didn’t mean to— I don’t want to invalidate how you’re feeling.” His voice was soft and concerned.
Buck shrugged. “It’s cool, I just… I just need some sleep.”
It hadn’t even gone eleven pm yet, and Eddie knew Buck wouldn’t sleep, but there wasn’t anything he could do to force his friend to open up. So instead of driving himself insane, Eddie took a deep breath and then nodded.
“Okay, Buck. I’ll just be in my room, okay? If you need me or— I don’t know. If you need anything.”
Buck nodded, and Eddie turned to walk back towards his bedroom.
He knew he wouldn’t sleep. He knew he’d sit up all night going buck wild and wondering what the fuck had he just done?
He climbed into bed, turned off the lights, and played out all the worst scenarios in his head.
Buck distrusting him because of what had nearly happened, thinking Eddie wasn’t someone he could be around without some weird pressure and tension between them.
Buck telling the 118, and Eddie having to confront whatever the fuck it was that had happened out there.
Tommy calling Buck back and telling him that he had been stupid and wrong and that he loved Buck and wanted to move in with him.
Eddie thought about it sometimes, how it might feel if Buck married someone else. If he went off and had a kid and moved into some suburban neighbourhood and started bringing in pictures of his partner and their life and family.
Would Eddie fade away? Would Christopher? He had to believe Buck wouldn’t ever do that, but that fear didn’t dissipate just because logic said it should.
He wanted so badly to be enough. He knew that he wasn’t.
Eddie must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he woke up in the morning, it was to the banging of pans in the kitchen and sweaty sheets sticking to his bare skin.
He supposed he’d had nightmares, but he didn’t remember them, and he considered that a small mercy.
“Buck?” He asked when he stumbled, bleary eyed into the kitchen.
Buck had been… going through his cupboards, apparently, because he was standing in a pile of utensils, some of which Eddie genuinely didn’t know he even had.
Buck turned to him and immediately looked back away, cheeks a bit flushed.
“I, uh, I was looking for your standing mixer.” He muttered awkwardly.
Eddie glanced down at himself, and saw the problem. He was still shirtless from bed. He’d been so distracted by the inherent panic of hearing crashing that he hadn’t stopped to consider. Not that Buck and Eddie hadn’t seen each other in various states of undress a thousand odd times.
Eddie had the irrational thought that he'd burned their whole friendship to the ground with one almost kiss, but he had to hope they were made of stronger stuff than that.
“I don’t think I have one?” Eddie answered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
“You do. I bought it, like four years ago.”
Eddie blinked quizzically at him.
“And you want it… because…?”
Buck shrugged, “Was thinking about baking something. Don’t know what yet. Haven’t decided. But I feel like baking.”
He seemed off, and Eddie really had no idea how to fix it.
“O… kay.” He nodded slowly, “Well, we could go to the store and get some stuff, come back, we can talk and bake.”
Buck eyed him suspiciously, and Eddie fucking hated it.
“What, so you can tell me I didn’t like Tommy that much again?”
Eddie gaped. “Are you kidding me? You’re actually mad at me for saying I didn’t realise you were that serious?”
“No.” Buck said, obviously lying. “No, I’m just— why does everyone think I’m so incapable of settling down? Why does everyone think that I’m so— that I’m—”
“Buck,” Eddie held up his hands placatingly. “That isn’t it at all. It’s not any reflection on you, I swear. I promise.”
Buck frowned sharply, “Then what?”
“It’s just— I’ve seen how you are in a relationship where you’re really invested, where you’re really into the person, and this… wasn’t that. You— you never talked about him, you never seemed to miss him when he wasn’t around, you never made him your phone background. I mean, you told me he gave you basketball tickets for your anniversary. You hate basketball. And you never miss a chance to give someone a present. Hell, you gave me a coffee maker just for a joke.” Eddie snapped, fully aware that he should be keeping his mouth closed and not saying any of this.
Buck opened his mouth and then closed it again.
He turned, like the conversation was just over, and stepped over all the shit he’d left out on the floor of the kitchen. “Maybe I should go.”
“Buck, I— look, I’m sorry, okay? I was obviously wrong, it’s clear that I— that I misread things.” He didn’t even know if he meant between Buck and Tommy or between himself and Buck. He just knew it all felt fragile and tenuous all of a sudden. “I just want to be here for you.”
“That might be more convincing if it didn’t seem like you were basically telling me I shouldn’t be sad.”
“That’s not what I’m—”
“He left me so I couldn’t leave him first. If you’re going to say anything at least say that’s fucked up and unfair, rather than just saying you’re surprised I care.”
It hit Eddie, then, that he’d misinterpreted what this fight was about. Buck wasn’t upset because Eddie implied he didn’t care about Tommy, he was upset because he felt like Eddie wasn't on his side. Eddie was always on his side. Even if he didn't have the right words.
Eddie stepped forward. “It is stupid.” He agreed. “And cowardly. But I think it just proves he didn’t really know you, Buck. If he did, he’d never doubt your loyalty.”
Something in Buck’s face softened.
“I’m sorry, Eds, I know I’m being…” He trailed off, running a hand over his face. “It’s just hard.” He admitted quietly. “I thought this one might be different.”
And that part actually did make Eddie’s heart ache for Buck. He understood. Wanting to get off the sick fucking roller coaster that was getting your hopes up and then starting from scratch when it all went wrong.
“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly, “I hoped it would be different for you too.” His voice was soft, and that wasn’t a lie. He wanted Buck to be happy, whatever that looked like. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might prefer if Buck found happiness with him at that time, of course, but still.
Buck sighed. “May as well go through your appliances now, I guess. Since they’re all out.”
Eddie nodded, going along with it even though he couldnt think of a worse early morning activity. Buck wanted to spend time with him, and Eddie could do that.
Somehow, the two of them wound up sitting on the floor of Eddie’s kitchen, looking through all the weird kitchen pieces he owned and shoved into particular spaces to get them out of the way.
All the tupperware with no lids.
All the old cups he’d had for Christopher that he’d grown out of.
Buck asked if he could keep an old Thomas the Tank Engine cup of Christopher’s that Eddie had a whole set of that he’d never had the heart to throw out, and Eddie gave it to him willingly. He considered he and Christopher very lucky to have someone who cared so much about them.
They didn’t talk about Tommy again, but Eddie felt like he’d already done the damage. As the day dragged on, Buck and Eddie laughed and charged and if he didn't look too closely, he could almost convince himself that they were totally fine. But Eddie knew Buck too well. Well enough to notice moments where he turned completely inwards on himself. Well enough to see the worry crease his brows when they were silent too long.
A few times, Buck tried to talk to him about Christopher. A part of Eddie really did want to talk to him too. To let him in on the suffocating, overwhelming pain of his missing son who wouldn’t tell him he loved him. But Eddie was too scared to, and so he brushed the topic away again and again.
They might be mostly fine, but something had shifted. It was Eddie’s fault.
*
Buck had been quiet for nearly a week.
Which, obviously, was his right. So he wanted space. He was allowed space. Eddie might be losing his damn mind because he had nearly kissed Buck and now Buck was barely answering his texts, but hey. At least they had work.
As long as Eddie knew Buck was okay, he could handle the space. It had been his own stupid fault for assuming Buck wouldn’t be more upset about the breakup.
He nearly texted him 50 times, writing up apologies and joked and concerned little questions. Every tjme, he stared at his phone and changed his mind. Every time, he told himself that if Buck needed him, he'd call. That Eddie had fucked up enough without fucking this up too. So he'd delete the message and hope that Buck might call him.
He didn't.
Eddie walked into another shift, content just to be normal with Buck there, and resolved that if it was still weird after, he’d maybe say something.
Except, when he pushed the glass doors of the locker room open, Buck was already holding court, talking and chatting like he was totally fine and nothing at all had ever gone wrong.
Chim and Hen listened on, Chim sitting on the bench and Hen leaning against her locker, the two with matching amused expressions as Buck talked brightly.
Eddie felt a surge of hope so bright it felt blinding.
But then:
“Eddie!” Chim slapped at his arm. “Get a load of this.”
He gestured to Buck and— Oh.
On Buck’s neck, right below the hinge of his jaw, clear as day and undeniable, was a blooming purple hickey.
Any thoughts Eddie had had vacated his mind completely, leaving him to stare blankly at the mark on Buck’s skin.
He had the insane urge to say ‘ew’, to shun the piece of skin that proved anyone had touched Buck that way.
“Jesus Christ, I had no idea he was so—”
Buck snorted, “Not Tommy.” He said, feigning a casualness that didn’t quite reach him. “Her name was Halle. Or… Haley, maybe.”
“Yeah, and it was worse before he did his shirt up.” Hen commented, shaking her head in a disapproval that was more playful than serious. “That girl needs some kind of chew toy.”
Chim grinned, clearly pleased with himself even before he voiced the jab. “Clearly, she has one.”
Eddie blinked, confused. “You’re… dating someone new?” He asked, blankly.
Buck shrugged easily, as if he was completely carefree. “No. It was a casual thing, one off.”
Eddie had heard stories about the insatiable Buck 1.0. About how wild and unpredictable he had been. About how it had come from a place of recklessness and loneliness.
Something fiercely protective passed through his veins like fire.
“Since when do you—?”
“If you ask me,” Chim started, looking up at Buck with a smirk, “It’s oddly comforting. Like, uh, like in Jurassic Park. Life finds a way. Babies are born, old people die; and somewhere in the world, Buck fucks.”
Hen and Buck both laughed loud and bright at that. Maybe on another day, Eddie could muster a laugh. But not that day, not when something was so deeply off about this.
Hadn’t Buck just said he wanted something to last? That he resented people thinking he’d leave or break their heart? Didn’t Buck want a family? Since when did he go out and hook up with some random person?
“So, uh, is this something you, like, do now? Go out for casual hookups.”
Buck shot him a weird, confused look.
“I mean, it was one person.” Buck responded with a shrug. “But like, maybe? Why not?”
Eddie stared up at him, but Buck was laughing and shaking his head and avoiding Eddie’s eyes.
“I guess I’m just… surprised?”
Hen laughed, “Oh, I forgot you weren’t around in the firehose days.”
Eddie had heard all about Buck 1.0, but the nickname was news to him. Or, maybe it wasn’t, maybe he’d heard it in passing, but his brain hadn’t really registered it until now. Maybe because it had never struck him in quite the same way.
Something passed through him, like a cold, metallic feeling, starting in his chest and stretching throughout his body. Something like nerves? Something like worry? Something like annoyance?
Chim snorted, “God, that’s right. The Buck you’ve been seeing is a little different to the one we first met. The one who got fired for hooking up with a girl in a stolen firetruck.”
“Woah, wait, pause—”
“You’ve heard about all this.” Buck rolled his eyes.
The truth was though, no, Eddie hadn’t. He’d heard brief mentions in passing, but nobody had ever sat down to tell him details anymore.
He was simultaneously desperate to hear them and wanting to stick his fingers in his ears and sing nursery rhymes until everyone shut up and left.
“I— no, not really. I knew you were first once for hooking up on the job. And I knew you were, uh, a ladies man. But like, I didn’t know that,” he cleared his throat, “I didn’t know you were fired for that.”
“I wasn’t,” Buck cleared his throat uncomfortably. “That, uh, did happen, but I was fired for stealing the firetruck and… um, on the roof.”
Chim and Hen were giggling, looking at each other more than at Buck or Eddie.
And Eddie just… it was like someone had soaked his brain in ice water. It was moving so slowly, so awkwardly that Eddie couldn’t put his thoughts together into one cohesive place.
Because Buck, his Buck, sure, he’d always been a little free with his affections, but Eddie didn’t know a version of Buck would ever skive off work. He’d never known a version of Buck that would call himself firehose without blushing either.
The Buck he knew was… inherently family oriented. The kind of person who wanted a person. Who wanted stability and consistency and someone to come home to at the end of the day.
He knew Buck had been like that, in theory, but the idea of him going back to that now made Eddie feel… weird. Not even just jealous, although unfortunately, that was the easiest emotion to pinpoint.
It also just made him feel…
Worried.
Buck had asked him why everyone assumed that he’d leave.
So Tommy had hurt him, and Buck was… firehose-ing again?
“Should we be concerned?” He asked slowly.
The giggling stopped. The room went quiet. Buck finally met his eyes.
“No,” Buck said, casual, shrugging. “I mean, I’ve been on that monogamy train for a long time now. I’ve done my best and nothing has worked out. But I’m hot and I’m bisexual and I’m single, and the truth is, I really, really fucking like sex.” Hen chimed in right then with an ew, Buck. “So maybe for a while, I get off the roller coaster and, y’know, fuck around.”
“Yeah, Eddie,” Chim said after a brief, but loud cackle, “Let Buck fuck.”
Buck scoffed, shoving Chim’s shoulder with a little grin. “Okay, we don’t need a slogan about it though. Anyway, I don’t know if it’ll even happen again.”
*
It did, as it turned out, happen again.
A few more shifts passed as usual, and a few more days where Eddie texted Buck and got short replies, unusual for Buck, yet normal enough not to raise any alarms, and Eddie was lulled into a false sense of security that maybe things were getting better. That maybe he wouldn't need to suffer through Buck's dating life again.
This time, it was Bobby who noticed.
“Uh… not to be indelicate, but is this something we should be concerned about?” He gestured to Buck’s wrists, where reddish, raised lines indented his skin.
Eddie’s brows pulled together in concern, but Chim and Hen began to snicker. It didn't take a genius. It also wasn't something Eddie wanted to have to believe.
“No, uh…” Buck laughed shyly, pulling his sleeves down over the red marks and staring at his own hands. “No, it was a, uh, bedroom thing.”
They all knew Buck might be more explicit if it wasn’t Bobby that he was talking to. But Bobby was Bobby, and he was basically Buck’s dad, and Buck probably didn’t want to be questioned about these things by Bobby of all people.
Buck sort of wished he could get that bonus too. Like, don't tell Bobby because he's Buck's Dad and needs to be able to sleep and eat and function without knowing that fucking much about Buck. But also, don't tell Eddie about Buck's sex adventures, because Eddie is hopelessly closeted and in love with him, probably, and somehow he can finally admit that only because a priest told him to drink juice.
Bobby's lips formed a silent ‘oh’ and he nodded, returning to the physical newspaper he was reading, something he’d never quite let go of.
Eddie, however, just kept on staring at Buck’s now covered wrists, waiting for something about it to… what, click into place? He wanted Buck to say it wasn’t what it sounded like, or to at least reassure them that it was all safe, sane and consensual.
He wanted to go back to when Buck was always telling him everything, and they spent all their free time together, and Buck’s sexual proclivities weren’t fucking haunting him.
Because they were.
He lay in bed at night and he wished he didn’t, but he thought about Buck. Wondered who was touching Buck. Who was seeing him in that way. He wondered if Buck felt satisfied at the end of it or if he just felt more alone. He wondered if Buck needed him and wasn’t saying so.
He wondered what it must be like to have Buck that way. To hold him close, to hear the sounds he’d let slip when he was too distracted to be in his own head. He wondered how he’d look when he came undone, and if the person he was with could even begin to fathom how lucky they were.
But no, Buck just went back to eating his cereal, like he hadn’t just confessed to something that made Eddie’s whole body burn with too many feelings to articulate.
He was humming, happy as a pig in mud.
And as weird as he’d been with Eddie, Eddie found himself asking: “Sorry, are you humming Losing My Religion?”
Because really, that felt oddly relevant to everything Eddie was dealing with, and Buck was hardly the type to start busting out 90s indie rock songs. That was far more Eddie’s game, Buck tended to listen to more modern things. But it felt almost mean to hear that song with everything going on in Eddie’s life and mind.
Hell, he’d gone to confession. After twenty odd years.
He’d tried to kiss a man.
He’d been rejected.
“Oh, yeah.” Buck nodded, “I’ve been binging Glee.”
Eddie blinked at him, genuinely surprised by that information. “Glee? Like, that 2000s singing show?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know it, Diaz, I know you’ve got two sisters.” Ravi scoffed, joining the conversation and sitting across from Eddie with an amused stare. “I watched that shit religiously. Used to update my iPod with it after every episode.”
Eddie couldn’t help but grin, pleased with the distraction and also with the little drip of personal information Ravi had just given them. He wasn’t always the most open with things.
“I watched bits and pieces.” Eddie acquiesced. “I certainly wasn’t a superfan like you were. I think I did see the first season or two though.”
Buck clapped his hands on the table in frustration, causing Bobby to glare at him for a quick second.
“Did everyone watch Glee except me?” He asked, dramatic and exasperated, as was his way. “God, I thought I was normal for not watching it.”
“What were you, like, 17 or 18 at the peak?” Ravi asked, brows lifting. “Had better things to do than watch thirty year olds sing and dance and pretend to be high schoolers?”
Buck snorted, “Yeah, man. When I was seventeen I was a football player. You better believe I was hoe-ing my way around the neighbouring schools.”
Eddie stared blankly at Buck, wondering whether he had actually personally offended God when he’d talked to Father Brian.
Eddie hadn’t been even remotely aware that the concept of Buck hoe-ing around would bother him, but then, for as long as Eddie had known him, Buck had been trying to find the real thing. With Taylor, with Ali, with Abby, with Natalia, with Tommy, even. Buck wanted real. He wanted commitment. He wanted something other than this. Surely.
“Well, some of us were busy being losers in hospital beds back then.” Ravi countered easily, a lot more comfortable with Buck than he had been once upon a time. “Anyway, what made you start now? I mean, that show existed in a very specific part of time and history that can never exist again. It was both the most progressive and the most offensive thing ever all at once. Like, yeah, there was diversity, but they were also going to send a girl to a crack house.”
Buck frowned at him. “Well, I still think it’s funny. Mostly. I liked Grilled Cheesus.”
Chim groaned, Ravi sighed and Eddie laughed. Because yeah, he did remember that one, vaguely. He remembered Soph talking about it nonstop for a week and his mother telling her it was blasphemous.
“A very important question though. Who’s your favourite character?”
Buck shrugged. “I don’t know. Kurt, maybe?”
Chim patted his shoulder. “Give it a little more time, Brittany and Sam are for you.”
Ravi burst out laughing, and Buck looked a little hurt. Eddie knew why, it was because Buck hated to feel left out. Now he did. He’d been the one to bring up Glee and the conversation had moved past him already.
Eddie hummed, “You never did answer why you started watching.”
Buck flushed. Eddie made the very valiant and brave sacrifice of not touching his cheeks about it.
“It’s stupid,” Buck grumbled. “But Josh was talking about, like, being pre- and post- Glee gays. And… y’know, I kinda— I kinda felt like I missed out on something culturally important to… y’know, queerness. So I went back.”
“And was this before or after someone tied you to a bed?” Ravi asked in pure amusement, his face lit up like he was finding nothing but joy in causing the rise of Eddie’s suffering.
Buck went even redder. Eddie went a little more insane.
“During…” He admitted shyly.
Bobby rose to his feet, sighing. “Just… be safe, kid.” He said awkwardly, before leaving the loft space like he’d rather do absolutely anything else in the world than discuss Buck and his sex life.
Eddie could relate.
Unfortunately, Eddie was also apparently extremely masochistic.
“During? Evan Buckley, that’s quite the move.” Hen was beaming, full of laughter and teasing.
“Look, we were watching the show and— and he distracted me, okay? I guess we didn’t get around to turning it off so I—”
“Got it on to the sweet, sweet sounds of the New Directions?” Ravi filled in.
Buck seemed pleased he was at least involved in the conversation again, and Eddie just… felt weird. He felt like he’d forgotten how to think right, like he couldn’t remember how his tongue was meant to feel in his mouth or how normal people relaxed their arms.
Every part of him suddenly felt creaky and unnatural.
“Got it off, more like.” Hen added.
With whatever tiny shred of self preservation Eddie actually possessed, he wrenched himself to his feet and followed after Bobby, trying hard for calm and natural and not quite so completely fucking bothered.
*
“Eddie,” The familiar voice caught him off guard, and Eddie immediately regretted his choice to return to the church.
The stupid truth was that he wasn’t there because he believed in God, he was there because he wanted to talk to someone. Father Brian was disconnected from the rest of his team, didn’t know Buck or anyone else, and didn’t seem to judge him for what was going on in his life. And even if he did, Eddie knew that the church he grew up in would disapprove of his new feelings. That wasn’t new.
That wouldn’t hurt the same way being rejected by his close friends or family would.
Which made Father Brian an easy option. He didn’t have to pay to talk to him, like a therapist, which made it feel a little less pathetic to him somehow (even though he knew full well that that was his own problem he needed to unpack).
It wasn’t good, but maybe what Eddie needed more than a priest was a friend, and maybe he was scared to talk to the ones he already had. Maybe somehow, he’d ended up looking to this weird young priest.
It was a shock to him, and he knew it would be to any of his existing friends too. Which was one of the many reasons he never mentioned it to anyone, even Bobby.
“Hi Father.”
He never really got over the weirdness of that, but he at least liked Father Brian, and that helped.
“You seem unhappy.” He said slowly, sitting down beside Eddie. Eddie kinda wished they were just talking at a coffee shop again instead of sitting in a church, of all places. “I thought we talked about seeking moments of happiness. How have you been going with that?”
Eddie huffed. “Well… good and bad.” He admitted with a grumble.
Father Brian gave him a questioning look, and Eddie really, really hated how badly he needed to talk about it.
“I danced in my underwear and almost kissed my best friend.”
Father Brian didn’t really react except to crack a tiny smile. Eddie took that as some kind of a win. It was silly to think Father Brian was anything other than a human man, just like him, but it still felt like some small win whenever he acted like just any other guy.
“And?” He prompted again, seeming pleased that Eddie had tried at all.
“Well, the key word was almost. Turns out my best friend didn’t really want to kiss me, so that kinda dampened the whole… y’know, joy part. At least of that. The dancing was fun.”
He smiled warmly at Eddie. “Small steps.” He reaffirmed with a nod. “But I get the sense you’re more wanting to talk about the first thing.”
Eddie frowned. “I… maybe? But I’m not really sure what I’m even… looking for. Nothing you say is going to change how I feel about this. About… him.”
A part of him was waiting for the disapproval. To be told he was doing something wrong. To be told he was going to hell. God (or whoever) knew he’d been hearing it enough since his childhood.
Father Brian tipped his head, “Do I strike you as someone who would cast a child of God out because of who they loved?”
Eddie sighed, “No, of course not. But people never do. Besides, I know how this game works. You say God loves me anyway, but he would just love me a little more if I did what I was meant to do and married a good Catholic girl and had babies. Love the sinner, hate the sin, and all of that.”
Father Brian smiled again, but it was more wry this time. Eddie kind of liked the way it humanised him.
“I don’t believe any of that.” He said, shaking his head. “The Father that I know would never turn His back on anyone. And the Father that I know doesn’t make mistakes in his children. Whomever you are, you were made with God’s love and in His image.”
Eddie thought all of it was a little trite and ridiculous, but he could still appreciate that it was better than disapproval.
He cleared his throat. It made him uncomfortable to realise how tight it felt.
He hated to think any part of him still craved the approval of an institution he didn’t even believe in.
Eddie hummed, “Like I said, I’m… not really here looking for… I don’t know. That.”
“What are you looking for, Eddie?”
He cleared his throat. It was awkward. All of this was awkward.
Joy.
He was meant to be looking for joy.
Or, maybe, he thought, just a little bit of compassion for himself.
“A friend, I think.”
“Okay. So tell me about your best friend then.”
And Eddie did. He told Father Brian about Buck. About his best friend who started out hating him and somehow changed his mind. The man who did so much for his son. He explained Buck, in the way that Eddie saw him. He could be harsh, impulsive, short-sighted… But he was Buck. He was the most loving person Eddie had ever known. Flawed or not, no one could ever doubt how earnestly and relentlessly Buck always tried. Eddie respected that.
“I dont thjnk that I knew I loved him.” Eddie confessed quietly, “Or maybe I did. Maybe some part of me has known forever… But Buck is… the idea of losing him terrifies me. If I hadn't been so caught up in chasing joy, I would have realised how big of a risk I was taking by trying to kiss him. But it was like… it was like this perfect moment. Buck was right there, right there in my hands, and he was laughing despite being dumped and… it just felt right. Like, yeah. Of course it's him. Of course it's us.”
Father Brian listened and he smiled. Eddie could see on his face the genuine attention he was paying, listening to Eddie actively and intentionally. It was nice, and Eddie figured he didn't have to like church to like this one priest. Eddie believed him when he said he wasn't judging, and that was genuinely new for him.
“The way you talk about it is really inspiring, Eddie.” He said quietly, “And it only reaffirms my belief that you are a good person, worthy of love. Bad people don't love selflessly.”
“It doesn't feel selfless.” Eddie admitted, staring ahead at the altar and thinking of the church he'd gone to as a child, and all the Sundays he'd spent trying to distract himself from the underlying fear of being punished. He remembered having the nagging, pulsating fear that someone was on to him. That he'd been found out. Back then, Eddie had never understood why. He hadn't even been conscious he was hiding anything.
Now though, with Buck's laugh ringing in his ears and his lips haunting Eddie's thoughts, he understood.
Consciously, Eddie hadn't had a clue. But somewhere, buried in his chest, nestled between Catholic fear and his crushing sense of responsibility, was the unspoken knowledge that Eddie couldn’t ever be what the church wanted him to be.
“That’s only because you feel guilty for wanting. But Eddie, wanting is not a sin. Being in love is not a sin. There is nothing selfish about the way you describe your friend.”
Eddie hummed. Maybe it was easier to be honest with Father Brian because he didn't know Eddie. Maybe the seeking joy thing was just seeping into his pores. Either way.
“I want him selfishly.” He confessed, wondering if some God was hearing him admit how he had come to worship a man, against all scripture. Wondering if some God could see in him all the remorse he didn't feel. If being with Buck was burning, at least he was prepared. He'd fought fires for less. “I feel so angry when he tells us he's been with someone else. I want him to be mine. I want tk be the only one allowed to worship him. I want to know that no one else will ever touch him that way again.”
Father Brian listened and nodded slowly, keeping the non judgemental look off his face.
“I don't think it's unnatural or unusual to want someone to be yours.” Father Brian told him, tone measured. “As a priest, I would tell you to seek guidance from the Lord. To find peace with what you do have. As a friend, I… don't think you should give up “
And that, weirdly enough, was how Eddie ended up texting his new friend, the Catholic Priest.
*
Eddie really didn’t mean to think about Buck and anyone else. He’d been careful not to think too hard about Buck’s wrists, or the hickeys, or firehose, or anything else.
It was just that he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it.
He lay in bed at night in his stupid, empty house, where he felt about a foot tall, overwhelmed by the size of it all and by how nothing he seemed inside of it.
He lay in bed with no Christopher and no Buck and no Marisol and no Shannon and no Ana and he wondered what the fuck was wrong with him?
Why had there been Ana and Marisol, who were kind and beautiful and loved Chris and Eddie had been… terrible to them both. He had been unkind, even when he hadn’t meant to be.
He had felt like his body, his physiology, his entire being had repelled them, like no matter how hard he tried, something in him knew it was wrong and refused to cooperate with his attempts to pretend otherwise.
With Buck, the opposite was true. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how distant they were, Eddie felt like he was being yanked forward. Like the universe or gravity or maybe just his own traitorous heart would stop at nothing to have Buck’s hands on him again. To have his body close. To feel close to him.
He wanted Buck. He couldn’t really deny it even if he wanted to. He wanted him. Emotionally, physically, carnally. He wanted him in ways that would be concerning to his faith, if Eddie still had it, and no amount of avoiding the thought was making it go away.
When he slept, he was plagued by dreams of Buck sighing and moaning and shaking under Eddie’s hands and lips and tongue. When he slept, he was plagued by nightmares of Buck hanging from a crane, or crushed by a truck, or marrying someone else.
Buck barely answered his texts.
Edward: can’t sleep
Belluck: dude we have a shift in the morning. go to sleep.
Edward: can’t
Belluck: lucky for you i just got out of the shower
Not lucky, Eddie thought desperately to himself, noting how unhelpful that image was. Noting how unhelpful it was that it made him wonder if Buck had just got done… doing something else.
God, Eddie hated his life.
Edward: and ur telling me to get sleep?
Belluck: i’m not the one texting at 2am dude
Edward: technically u are
Belluck: okay well goodnight
Edward: wanna hang out after next shift? feel like we haven’t in ages
Belluck: got a date. sorry man.
Eddie lay in bed staring at the ceiling and trying not to picture Buck’s heavy breathing beside him for what felt like hours.
*
“So,” Buck and Eddie were rappelling themselves from the rock edge, wind whistling beside them, and all Eddie could think about was Buck and his stupid firehose. “Have you talked to Tommy since…?”
Buck huffed, “No. I’ve been stress baking, watching Glee and having sex. Those are pretty much my full time hobbies now.”
Eddie nearly choked. “That’s, um, a wide variety of things.”
Buck snorted, “Yeah, well,” He shrugged, and they both kept getting lower. Eddie purposefully did not look at the way the harness seemed to elongate Buck’s already devastatingly long legs. “I figure if I do some positive and productive things, and get what I got from Tommy elsewhere, then I won’t call him and make an idiot of myself.”
Eddie didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know.
“That’s all you got from Tommy? Sex?”
Buck shrugged. “I don’t know? No? I guess.” He sighed, “I can’t really tell anymore. What was real and what was, like, me doing that thing I do where I idealise all of it and just… want it to be more special than it is.”
Eddie felt a stab of guilt for the way he’d been thinking about Buck.
“I think that’s one of the best things about you,” Eddie confessed, being vulnerable because he cared about Buck. Because he wanted to make Buck happy. “You see the best in people. You never give up hope. Wish I was more like that.”
Buck shrugged, “You’re a realist. You don’t get swept up in stupid flights of fancy.” He looked up at Eddie, and despite the wind in his face and the goggles and helmet covering him, Eddie thought he looked sort of young when he talked. “You don’t go around just ignoring all the signs like I do.”
Eddie hummed, “You know, my Abuela always said that you only need to get it right once. Everybody gets it wrong a hundred times first, but you only need to get it right with someone one time. Everyone thinks they’re hopeless at it before they find the right one.”
“Maybe I just am, though.” Buck said softly, “Maybe there is no right one for me.” He lowered himself a little quicker, and Eddie had to hasten his movements to keep up. Buck had been a little off with him since the night they danced together, and Eddie didn’t want to waste this precious time alone together. “This is the part I’m good at anyway.”
Eddie glanced back up in the direction of the solid land their team were still on, sighing. They wouldn’t have long left before they got into the open cave system where their hikers had gotten trapped.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Buck. Just because you’re good at sex doesn’t mean it’s all you’re good for.”
The shrill cry for help interrupted their conversation, and then they were back in firefighter mode, and their conversation was forgotten, and Eddie hoped he’d said enough.
*
Eddie Diaz: have you ever wanted someone so bad it felt like it was eating at your skin?
Father Brian: I’m celibate, Eddie
Eddie Diaz: me too, kind of, but not by choice
*
“Both.” Buck was saying quietly, and Hen erupted in laughter so loud it might wake the dead.
Chim, however, covered his ears like he’d just been assaulted by whatever Buck said.
Ravi and Eddie looked up from where they’d been playing a half hearted game of cards at the dinner table.
“Damn, Buckaroo, I’m impressed. You really are back in top Firehose shape.” Hen was still letting out peels of effervescent and contagious laughter when she spoke.
Eddie had never wished he could laugh with her more, but he couldn’t. Not about this.
“What? Don’t leave us out of the gossip.” Ravi, a perpetual and unashamed gossip, asked quickly.
Buck ducked his head, smile shy. Chim was still dramatically wincing and shaking his head like he’d smelled something disgusting.
“Buck went full unicorn.”
Ravi’s face lit up in amusement.
Eddie had no idea what that meant.
“Unicorn…?” He asked slowly, cursing his need to know despite the discomfort it would inevitably cause him.
“Uh… someone who joins an existing couple.” Buck muttered, awkward and avoiding everyone’s eyes. “It’s— y’know— it’s no big deal, guys. I’m just, y’know, playing the field.”
Eddie’s heart had fallen out of his ass, he was pretty sure.
It lay on the floor, bleeding and heaving its last few desperate pumps, ignored by everyone he worked with.
They could see it, surely. Eddie felt like it must be obvious and tangible, written on his face for everyone to see.
Maybe Eddie needed to go back to confession.
*
Eddie Diaz: he’s doing it again
Father Brian: Are you referring to your best friend?
Eddie Diaz: yeah, him. he’s doing it again.
Father Brian: And by it, you mean…?
Eddie Diaz: okay well this feels like a weird thing to text a priest about
Father Brian: Would it help if I reminded you that I’m still just a 35 year old man? And you asked me to be your friend?
Eddie Diaz: kind of.
Eddie Diaz: i’m learning a lot about his sex life and i think i might be in purgatory
Eddie Diaz: is that possible?
Eddie Diaz: don’t answer that
Eddie Diaz: i’m going to strangle someone
Father Brian: I would have to advise you against that?
Father Brian: Have you told him that it makes you uncomfortable?
Eddie Diaz: i thought we already established that i hate myself
Father Brian: … I would have to advise you against that too?
Eddie Diaz: friend capacity?
Father Brian: Right.
Father Brian: As your new friend, I would still like to tell you that hating yourself isn’t helping and talking to your friend is probably your best option.
Eddie DIaz: okay, well, that’s just too logical to be helpful, actually
*
Eddie wanted to talk to Buck. He wanted to tell Buck. He wanted to admit that, at the very least, he’d figured out he was gay. It was its own revelation, absolutely, and deserving of its own time outside of the Buck of it all.
Because sure, Eddie wanted Buck to a worrying degree, but even if Buck didnt exist, he'd still be gay. And so even if Buck didn't want him, Eddie wanted to tell his best friend.
He wanted to do it outside of work, but Buck had been busy lately, and Eddie was running out of patience. He needed to say it out loud, and he really wanted it to be to Buck first.
He'd cornered Buck in the gym about halfway through a shift to try and tell him.
He'd spent an embarrassingly long time just punching the bag and pretending not to be psyching himself up to talk to Buck.
He'd spent an embarrassingly long ttime watching Buck out of his periphery, and thinking about their first ever confrontation in a gym.
Looking back, Eddie thought he'd been infatuated with Buck for at leasy that long. By all rights, he should've hated Buck that day in the gym. He'd been so deeply endeared to his bullheadedness.
“Buck?” He asked, finally, once Buck had finished a set. Eddie tried not to acknowledge that he'd been paying enough attention to know Buck's sets.
Buck grunted charmingly in return, sweaty and objectively unappealing.
Eddie wanted him so bad it hurt.
“It's no big deal or anything, but have you got a sec?”
“Oh,” Buck nodded, “Yeah, what’s up?” He dropped down to sit on the bench, looking up at Eddie, studying his face like he was trying to make sense of it. Eddie wasn't sure he wanted that. He wasn't even sure he wasn't being stupid by telling Buck this when Buck was being so off with him. But he figured whatever was going on between them would pass. They were Buck and Eddie. This was how they worked.
“So, uh, you remember how I was dancing the other night? In my underwear?”
Buck actually grinned at him, and for a moment everything felt normal again. Eddie basked in that. He missed that so much. Not that much time had passed, but knowing what he now knew, any time where they weren't them felt like a kind of heartbreak.
“Yeah— bit hard to forget that.” Buck said with a teasing grin.
“Right,” Eddie was grinning then too, and he told himself it definitely wasn't because Buck’s tone sounded a little flirty when he mentioned walking in on Eddie pantsless. “So there was kind of this whole, I don't know, thing. With a priest. And, like, stuff about juice and joy and…”
Eddie took a gasping breath, stalling for a moment and Buck took the moment to fill in. “I did wonder about this, but I figured you'd tell me when you were ready… About… juice and joy.” He was grinning, seeming more himself than he had in a minute, and Eddie thought about how much he craved this Buck. His fun, jokey, silly best friend.
“Yeah, I… The thing is that I—”
“Buck! Someone's here for you!” Bobby’s voice broke through the quiet of their conversation, and Eddie startled.
Buck’s eyes landing on Eddie’s face with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Eds.” He said quickly, rising to his feet. “I'll be back, okay? We can keep talking.”
Eddie nodded, but when Buck went to see who was there, Eddie followed instinctively. He kept a distance, just as Hen and Chim did, obviously also wanting to be nosy.
He remembered her. She had thick reddish blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Her wrist was in a cast, no doubt from her accident, and she was looking at Buck all moony eyed, like he was her personal saviour.
He was, actually, he'd pulled her out of a wreck. Eddie had been there too, but she'd been concussed and dazedly staring at him.
Eddie had seen the heart eyes a mile off, but he hadn't thought she'd come all the way to the firehouse to follow up on it. Most people had more shame than that.
When Buck approached, he was his normal Buck. Upbeat, personable, sweet. She looked at him like he might be the second coming, and Eddie attempted not to hate her for it. After all, they were in the same boat. Just two people sucked into Buck’s magnetic orbit.
He caught moments of the conversation.
Happy to see you on your feet.
Yeah, thanks to you.
Chim scoffed, “It really is amazing how they find him like heat seeking missiles. Like, is there a homing beacon for hot singles that leads them straight to Buck?”
Hen gave Chim a look, then glanced at Eddie.
“You helped save this one, right?” She asked.
Eddie nodded, “Not sure she saw me around Tyrannosaurus Buck, but yeah.”
“Ah,” Chim patted his shoulder comfortingly. “They never do. We've all seen Buck’s superpowers in action. Don't worry, buddy, the right girl will notice you first.”
Eddie almost let out an awkward peel of hysterical laughter at that. As if Eddie was jealous of Buck. As if Eddie was jealous that this girl wanted Buck and not him. Eddie didn't care about her, really, but some petty part of him did want to fling himself into Buck’s arms and tell this girl that he was spoken for, dammit. He'd been spoken for since Eddie’s first day at the 118.
But it was irrational, and Buck wasn't his.
Wondering if —
Eddie couldn't catch the whole request.
I'm still on shift and—
It was Bobby that broke through, passing by to do some job or another and overhearing.
“Only twenty minutes left of the shift, kid. You can head our early if you want.”
Eddie sagged. He'd been relying on Bobby to save him from this. So much for that.
Buck agreed to go with her, for coffee or lunch or an orgy, Eddie really had no idea. All he knew was that he had somehow been fucked again, and not in the fun way.
As Buck was leaving, he grabbed Eddie’s upper arm, halting him for a second where Eddie had resumed some basic tasks.
“Hey. I'm sorry she interrupted our conversation. Later, yeah?”
“Sure.” Eddie nodded, not particularly convinced.
*
“So you and Buck, huh?” There was no attempt at subtlety. No attempt at beating around the bush. Hen just plopped down next to him and started talking like it was totally natural and not currently Eddie’s greatest fear in life.
Eddie cleared his throat. “Pretty aggressively not. I’d say, he’s been, um, very busy lately.”
“About that. I’m worried about him.” Hen said slowly. “I mean, I’m all for testing the waters and getting your kicks, but Buck is… y’know.”
Eddie’s brows raised, some odd kind of loyalty reminding him not to be mean. Even if Buck wasn't talking to him, Eddie was on his side. Eddie was always on his side.
“Is he punishing himself, Eddie?”
Eddie shrugged, “He seems… happy. I guess. I don’t know, he’s been avoiding me.” He didn't mean for that to slip out, but of anyone in the team, Hen felt like the person most equipped to handle whatever this gay crisis was.
“A-ha!” Hen turned to him, eyes a little narrowed, like this was the exact thing she’d been trying to get out of him. “So there is something weird going on. I mean, Buck’s gonna Buck, we all know that, but you’re usually a lot more involved in whatever’s going on in his life, and lately I feel like you two aren’t being nearly as codependent as usual. I don’t like it.”
Eddie was sure he looked skeptical. Or even mad, maybe. He felt a little stuck on it all, on her assessment that something was wrong because they weren’t as attached to each other as usual. Was that all this was? Jealousy that he didn’t have Buck’s attention?
Would he go back to seeing Buck as a proper, normal best friend if Buck was still acting like Buck?
“I… don’t actually know, Hen.” Eddie said quietly, not wanting to be overheard. “I mean, yeah, I guess we haven’t been seeing each other as much? But maybe, y’know, it’s because he’s always busy at the moment. You know. Dating.”
She hummed, “And does that— y’know, bother you?”
Eddie cleared his throat, wishing he could leave this goddamn conversation. He just wished things could be normal again. He loved Buck, and whether it was romantic or platonic was irrelevant to one simple fact: he wanted Buck in his life. Buck's sudden distance was disconcerting at best.
“What? Buck dating? Of course not, he’s entitled to do what he likes.”
“Yeah, but…”
“I just want him to be happy, Hen. And he seems less sad since he’s started dating again, I guess.” Eddie shrugged, “Maybe he needs this, y’know? A break from… trying so hard all the time. I mean, the way Tommy left him…”
“Makes total sense.” She said with a shrug.
Eddie looked up, a bit betrayed. On Buck’s behalf, of course.
“I mean, come on, Eddie, we both know Buck and Tommy were never going to work out.”
Eddie picked at his fingers, staring at the ground and hoping she didn’t ask for his thoughts.
“Eddie.” She repeated, frowning. “You and I both know that what Buck wants as his forever thing is not Tommy Kinard.” She said it with disgust, and finally, Eddie cracked a smile.
“Okay, yeah.” Eddie admitted quietly, “Yeah, okay, it had no future. But how stupid would you have to be to willingly sacrifice Buck just to save yourself some heartache?”
She gave him a warm, solid smile. “Exactly, Eddie. That’s exactly why it never would’ve worked. Buck needs someone to stay. Someone to stick by his side even when he’s going through something. Even when he’s his most chaotic.”
Eddie would have to be blind not to see where Hen was going with this speech. Still, he held onto hope.
“Someone like you.”
Eddie sighed, avoiding her eyes. “Hen…”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” She argued, shaking her head. “About you and him. No more stupid filler relationships neither of you are ever fully invested in. No more pretending. Just the two of you.”
He sighed, “Hen.” He tried to sound a little firmer this time.
“Tommy knew he wouldn’t ever be the one Buck chose because he saw what we all saw, that when push comes to shove, Buck will always pick—”
“I tried to kiss him and he rejected me, okay?” Eddie hissed, raising his hands as if pleading for Hen to shut up. He was terrified someone else would hear, and while he trusted Hen with this, he didn’t need Bobby’s sage wisdom or Chim’s inability to keep a secret or Ravi’s shit-eating grin involved.
Hen blinked at him like she couldn’t quite wrap her head around what he was saying.
“Wait, so this… this sleeping around thing, this is…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “This is about you, not Tommy.”
Eddie frowned, “I think it’s about him, actually. I think he’s falling back on what he knows, because it’s more comfortable for him, and easier, and he’s not going to get his heart broken again doing it. And I get it, y’know, I do. But… I think I’ve also gotta take no for an answer. I mean, he’s been weird with me since it happened, so.”
Hen frowned, “Okay, yes, you're right about that part… but there's more to it, because this is a reaction to more than just Tommy. That makes a lot more sense, doesn't it?”
Eddie sighed, “I know you're trying to help me, Hen, and him, but do you really think it's… I mean, maybe the best case scenario is just that we accept that this is what Buck wants. Not me. He's made that clear.”
She was shaking her head, dark eyes fixed in the distance like she was trying to riddle something out “Do you want to talk about it, Eddie? What this means for you?”
Eddie didn't know quite what to say. He didn't want to talk about it, because he didn't know what to say. He felt so much guilt for any adverse reaction he'd caused in Buck. He felt so much guilt for Christopher. He was attempting joy, but it was hard when his best friend wouldn't even talk to him.
“Not right now. But when I’m ready, I'll come to you, I promise.” He sighed and after a moment, added the thought that had stopped him from interfering, “When he was… Buck 1.0 or whatever, he was imploding his life, right? Being reckless and cruel to himself. Risking his job and himself. He's not doing that now. He has his family and his friends. He's not hurting his job. This isn't a… Buck 1.0 thing. He's still Buck… whatever iteration he is now. He's just… experimenting with that. And we shouldn't do anything to mess with that. As the people who love him.”
Hen frowned. “But does he know that?” She asked quietly, “That you love him?”
Eddie shrugged, a little helpless about it. “I don't think he's ready to know that. I don't think he's ready to take another risk with his heart right now. I can't begrudge him that.”
She sighed, “What about your heart?”
Eddie shrugged, “I’ll be fine.”
*
“Okay, I'm afraid to know the answer to this question, but why are you texting yourself?” Chim's voice was genuinely hesitant, and Eddie understood why. It was something of an insane question to have to ask on a Tuesday morning.
Buck looked up, cheeks red.
“Uh… I'm not?” Buck answered, apparently hoping that no one would question that any further.
No such luck, because half the team was staring at him, brows lifting skeptically at their teammate and friend. Buck was someone they all cared about, and though he seemed… oddly fine, he'd never really handled breakups well.
“You guys are going to make fun of me.”
“Aw, Buck… We were probably going to do that anyway.” Chimney told him with a fond grin, “So you may as well just… tell us.”
Buck glanced around the group, eyes lingering for just a beat longer on Eddie, who silently begged for Buck to look at him again. For longer. To look at him like he had that night… Eddie couldn't have been imagining it. He couldn't have imagined the way Buck had stared at his lips. The moment of… fire between them.
Buck looked away again too soon.
“I was, uh, trying to convince myself not to call Tommy. I was scared I'd, y'know, fall into those same old traps. So I, uh, changed his name and picture.”
There was a beat of silence where it seemed like no one knew how to respond to that. Eddie sure as hell didn't.
“To… yourself?” Bobby asked, his tone careful.
“To… myself, yeah.”
Glances were exchanged, and Buck let out a long, tired sort of sigh. He clearly knew something was coming. Which, yeah, of course it was. What Buck had just told them was totally illogical.
“Okay, you're going to have to give us more than that.” Hen finally cut in with a sigh, “No one knows why you would possibly do that.”
Buck glanced around like he was hoping someone would bail him out. Eddie was clearly his last ditch effort.
Maybe if Buck hadn't been ignoring him, Eddie might have tried harder to help. But as it was, Eddie was curious and not that inclined to jump in.
They exchanged a glance that Eddie took as something like shared exasperation, albeit for completely different reasons.
“Well, it's… Anyway, I got to go.”
Buck clambered to his feet, stumbling towards the stairs to run away, calling back something about a job he had to do.
Eddie locked eyes with the rest of his team, looking at Eddie like he might have the answer to that. He didn't, of course. Buck had barely spoken to him in weeks, and even if he had, Eddie had never fully understood Buck's more outlandish behaviour. It was part of his charm, Eddie thought.
“So… We all agree that he’s being weird, right?” Chim asked, waving his fork around.
Bobby hummed, and Hen's eyes were still trained in the direction where Buck had gone, looking a little worried.
“Has anyone seen him socially lately?” Eddie asked, needing to know, suddenly, if it was just him.
“Uh, yeah. He came to our place for dinner a few nights ago. Rocked up with lipstick all over his collar, but came and spent the evening. Jee was tickled pink. She always is. Especially when he turns up with cookies.” Chim told them all happily, “I mean, he seems fine, just… unusual.”
Bobby half smiled at Chim, “Came over for family dinner on Sunday with May and Harry.”
Eddie looked to Hen. “Wine night with us last week.”
Ravi sighed when Eddie's eyes landed on him. “We went to a bar last night. He left with some guy.”
Eddie was losing his mind.
So he wasn't crazy. He wasn't imagining it.
Eddie had been respecting Buck's space. Eddie had been letting his best friend grieve in his own way. Eddie had been carefully distant.
Eddie missed his best friend.
Sure, he wanted something else, but he'd rather have his best friend than nothing at all. Even if it meant having to hear about his fucking hookups.
Because that, that was the thing that Buck had kept consistent. Lately it had seemed like every shift there was something.
Buck had a hickey on his neck. Buck had marks on his wrists. Buck had visible scratches on his back. Buck had a limp that he blushed every time someone mentioned.
( Eddie Diaz: coveting someone is a sin, right?
Eddie Diaz: i don’t actually want to know, i was just looking for an in to start texting bc buck keeps coming to work with hickeys and i’m going insane
Father Brian: You’re allowed to just text me, you don’t have to pretend it’s about church.
Father Brian: I beg you to just talk to your friend though.)
Eddie had nearly actually flipped a table when some random guy had shown up with Buck's turnout jacket, coyly asserting that he imagined Buck would need it. Bobby couldn't get too mad, given his personal history, but he did remind Buck to keep track of it at least.
( Eddie: apparently he’s been getting kinky about it too, some guy just turned up with his uniform…
Brian: Yikes…
Brian: Is he talking to you properly yet?
Eddie: nope that’s the worst part)
Or when, on a call, a woman had announced how embarrassing it was to run into Buck outside the context of her bedroom, and Buck had joked that clearly she had been wanting to see him again.
Never mind the three separate times Buck had been given a number on the last few shifts, which he'd willingly taken and tucked away for later each time.
He'd even walked in on Bobby and Buck having a serious discussion about fucking safe sex practices because of the bondage incident.
( Eddie: do you want to meet me for lunch? if i have to listen to one more person ask him about his sex life, i’m going to jump out a window
Brian: the cafe near your work again?
Eddie: yup
Eddie: thanks man)
He'd walked in on Buck and Hen laughing hysterically about Buck's ring cutter, and some anecdote he had about the use of that.
All in all, Eddie had texted Father Brian at least three separate times to tell him that finding joy was fucking stupid, and if there was a God, he was definitely punishing Eddie.
Never mind that Eddie already knew and worshipped the person torturing him, and he sure as hell wasn't God.
Eddie was being ignored. Eddie was being ignored by his best friend because he’d tried to kiss him. His anger built in him, and after a moment, he got to his feet, following Buck down the stairs and towards the firetruck he was cleaning.
“So,” he began, smacking his hand against the side of the truck as he leaned onto it. “You’ve sure been busy, huh? Too busy for me?” It was aggressive and upfront, more so than Eddie had been towards Buck since… well, since the lawsuit. Since he’d yelled at him in a grocery store.
Buck blinked up at him, his whole body going stiff and uncomfortable in obvious shock. Eddie hated that a part of him was pleased to have startled him. Pleased to have Buck's undivided attention on him for once. It felt scarce these days.
“I— I'm allowed to be busy, Eddie, just because we're friends—”
“Just because we're friends?” Eddie repeated, irritated. “No, that isn’t it, Buck. Because you had no trouble hanging out with the rest of the 118. Or, y'know, anyone you meet at a bar or a call or anywhere, I guess. Anyone but me, that is.”
Buck stared blankly at him, as if Eddie might be speaking another language. Of course, he wasn't, and the fact that Buck was playing dumb to something so obvious kind of made Eddie want to scream.
Because Eddie understood that Buck was going through a tough time. He understood that Buck was struggling with the weight of rejection and of starting over and of the new discoveries in his life. He understood that Buck felt lost and overwhelmed.
It was just that Eddie did too. It was that usually, whenever something was wrong, they turned to each other. Buck turned up at Eddie's door after his breakup. Eddie needed Buck when he'd had his PTSD episode. Buck had gone to Eddie when he was overwhelmed after his coma. Eddie had called Buck when Christopher couldn’t look at his father in the eye. They always, always turned to each other.
But this time, when it felt like they both needed each other more than ever, Buck had iced Eddie out like he wasn't even there. Like he didn't matter.
Like he wasn't the other half of Eddie's heart.
Eddie had lost the two most important people to him, and the only reason he could find for Buck's sudden absence was that he had been horrified by Eddie wanting him.
It hurt like a gunshot wound, and Eddie would know.
“What has who I'm dating got to do with anything? I'm allowed to see other friends and other people, that's something I'm entitled to do.” Buck finally seemed to be regaining his footing, and while he had seemed startled and maybe even concerned at first, there was anger pulling at his features then.
Eddie was glad. It was what he wanted. He’d had simmering anger and insecurity and jealousy pulling at him for weeks on end, and he wanted a spark that would light a fire. Something to match the way his insides already burned and twisted when he saw Buck turning up seeming so casually available to everyone else.
Eddie knew he was lashing out. He couldn't find it within himself to care though. Let Buck yell at him. Let him be furious. Let him rage. At least he was looking at Eddie. At least some emotion was reserved for just him.
“It has everything to do with everything, Buck. This isn't what you want— ever since we met you've been talking about the future you want. Family and consistency and love. You go on and on about the evolutions you've had from Buck 1.0, but how is this any better? Running from your feelings and hiding in whoever will let you?”
Buck recoiled like hed been slapped. Eddie knew he'd be ashamed later, but in the moment, he wanted the fight. He wanted Buck to fight back. He wanted Buck to hit him where it hurt. To leave bruises. He wanted Buck to hate him, as long as he stopped acting indifferent to him.
“Eddie, for fuck sake, you're not my boyfriend, you don't get a say in what or who I do.”
It burned in his chest, and Eddie basked in the feeling.
“No, no, I'm not your boyfriend, of course. No, I'm just the guy you come home to when you've had your fill of everyone else.” It was a little too honest, a little too raw. He was exposing too much, but he'd started, and now he couldn't stop.
He was tearing strips of flesh off of his own bones, leaving himself raw and exposed, bleeding and vulnerable and at Buck's mercy. There was anger, or a poor mask of it, and behind that, was Eddie's most masochistic self, begging Buck to dig the knife in deep enough to scar.
Because Eddie fucked up. He fucked up and he fucked up again. Eddie had pushed his wife away. His son. His best friend. Eddie was repellent to love. He didn't deserve for Buck to look on him with compassion, and he was willing to fight for that point.
“And what a fucking burden that must be on you!” Buck snapped, taking a step closer to Eddie. “I thought that was what we did. For each other.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe I'm sick of being last choice. Maybe I'm sick of watching you fuck anything with a pulse and ignore me until they leave, and suddenly I'm good enough again.” Buck flinched, and Eddie knew the nerve he'd hit. He knew what he'd done, what he'd said. He'd pressed on a long standing bruise, and he waited breathlessly for Buck to strike a killing blow. For him to extinguish any hope Eddie ever had of having what he'd always wanted.
“And maybe I'm sick of only being good enough when you want a co-parent, Eddie. Maybe I'm sick of being the only one you don't consult when it goes to shit. Maybe I'm sick of being the one to clean up the mess when you fuck up because you repress the shit out of your emotions.”
That was it. That was the blow Eddie wanted. The anger burned bright on Buck’s face, but beneath it, Eddie could already see the remorse beginning to form. He didn't want it. He didn't deserve it. He wanted Buck to hate him.
He craved Buck’s love like it was made of ichor.
“Wish you'd just said all that when I tried to kiss you, rather than dragging me through this.” Eddie whispered, nearly a hiss, urgent and aggravated.
Something in Buck’s expression changed, clarified, and before he could say any more, Bobby intercepted.
“That’s enough.” His voice was unusually harsh, standing between them. “Now I know you two are both going through a lot, and I don't know exactly what's gone down between you, but you are not going to stand here and use each other to hurt yourselves. Not in my firehouse. Buck, go to my office.” Buck opened his mouth to speak, but Bobby silenced him with a raised hand, and Buck turned and stalked off towards the office.
Bobby turned to Eddie. “Your shift is over.”
Eddie opened his mouth to argue. Bobby beat him to it.
“You're not in trouble. But you are spiralling. Being here isn't going to help, and I imagine there's going to be some emotional fallout from what was just said. Go home. Call me later if you need me. This isn't a punishment, Eddie, it's a reprieve.”
Eddie had no doubt that Bobby had heard it all, even his last yell.
For all the mean words hurled, the undercurrents had been something else entirely.
The undercurrent had been fear.
Buck’s fear of being abandoned, of being unwanted.
Eddie’s fear that he was and always would be a failure.
They had each lashed out with sharp tongues, and Eddie hated himself for it, but it was true. He had used Buck to hurt himself.
So when he turned and left the firehouse, he won't to the only place he could think to go.
*
“Brian…” It felt especially wrong to refer to him casually in church, but Brian had insisted that if they were friends, his first name was perfectly adequate. So Eddie was trusting him, because he needed a friend who wasn't so close to this.
“Eddie.” Brian greeted him with the familiarity of a friend, and Eddie could feel the emotion creeping up on him, stinging behind his eyes. He was glad the church was empty.
“I really fucked up.” He whispered, picking at his sleeves.
“Let's go to my office.”
It was a nice office, really. Simple. Dark wood furniture and lots of pictures. Eddie figured they were probably his congregation, but he didn't actually know.
Behind Brian was an uncomfortably large Jesus statue with an uncomfortably pointy face. Something about it wasn’t quite right. Eddie didn’t know what, but something about the thing landed more on the side of creepy than reverent. Eddie felt like it was watching him, like the Mona Lisa, and he had to fight the urge to take it down so it couldn’t look at him anymore.
“So, tell me what happened.”
“I blew up at Buck because he wouldn’t stop ignoring me and talking to everyone else about his sex life, and I was just so sick of seeing it and hearing it and him never paying attention to me anymore and it just— I just lost my son, man. I felt like I’d lost him too and so I— I said some stuff I didn’t really mean. Or maybe I did mean it, but not the way I framed it. Not the way I let him think I meant it.”
“Okay,” Brian said patiently, waiting for Eddie to elaborate.
“I think I wanted him to say something really mean. I wanted him to hurt me, because I felt like… I felt like I…”
“Deserved it?” His friend guessed, and Eddie nodded.
Brian sat forward, his forearms folded on the table, eyes scanning Eddie’s face with what seemed to be genuine concern.
“I guess it just felt like… like I was losing him anyway. And it hurt, but it felt like… a slow death, y’know? Like I was losing him and I couldn’t stop it, but I couldn’t speed it up, I just had to sit and watch him slowly slip away, just like I watched my kid walk away, and I just— I just wanted it to be quicker. I thought if I could push him enough then—”
“And did it work?”
He took a long, deep breath. “I don’t know. Yeah, I suppose. I think in the end, everything I said was still worse though.” He admitted softly, shaking his head. “I know one of his biggest fears is being left behind. It didn’t stop me from saying he only used me when people had had enough of him though.” He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug. “And he told me he was sick of me not communicating properly with him. That I used him as a co-parent and expected him to clean up the messes I make.”
Brian’s brows pinched together. “Can I ask you a question, Eddie? A real one?”
Eddie nodded slowly, a little afraid of what was about to be asked of him. “Do you believe that the two of you are healthy for each other with those kinds of statements?”
Something in Eddie seemed to flare brighter when he heard the question. Some defence of Buck. Of their relationship. He didn’t mean it to come out that way, but his tone was a little sharp when he answered. “Buck is… Buck makes me like myself and my life more than anyone. He’s like… a shot of pure sunshine. Even when he’s sad, there’s something about him that just bleeds life. Lately I’ve been… I guess I’ve been avoiding being honest with him.” Eddie admitted quietly, “I guess that’s what he was saying. That I only go to him when I need him. That Christopher has been gone for months and… and he and I never talk about it.”
Brian tipped his head, but he didn’t interrupt, letting Eddie say whatever he needed to say. Maybe he realised that Eddie could talk himself around to it, he just needed the room to do so. Especially now that the floodgates were open. He had to thank Brian for that too. His advice had been what triggered Eddie’s sudden desire to say what needed to be said no matter the cost. That and the feeling that Buck was slipping through his fingers.
“I guess I was pushing him away too. Always pretending to be fine around him. Always pretending that… that we hadn’t lost him.” Brian nodded slowly, listening to Eddie talk with rapt attention. “I guess I’ve been denying a lot of things for a long time.”
He paused, frowning. “Did I ever tell you that if I die, Buck is my son’s legal guardian?”
Brian shook his head, speaking quietly, like he didn’t want to interrupt Eddie’s honesty. “No.”
“Yeah, he is. I did it after we’d known each other for a year. Less than a year. I wouldn’t let his own mother see him because I was scared to trust her again. I had panic attacks when my long term girlfriend seemed a bit too comfortable with us. I’ve fucked up every good thing I ever had because I got scared that I couldn’t— that I wouldn’t— I got scared. But with Buck, it’s like… I still get scared. And I still do insanely stupid things. But… every time I get terrified, it’s like I pull him closer instead of pushing him away. But I don’t… know how. I don’t know how to explain why I wanted him to be represented in the legal documentation. I don’t know how to explain that it felt wrong that no documents or laws would recognise what Buck was to us.
“I don’t know how to explain that I got shot and the only thing I could think about was whether Buck had been hurt. Or how to explain that Buck was just the only person I trusted with my son. I didn’t know how to explain to anyone why I couldn’t even fucking look at him when he was intubated. That I couldn’t— I couldn’t fathom—” He cut himself off, sniffing harshly. He hated the emotion that showed on his face. He hated how weak he felt. He hated his parents for teaching him his feelings were weak.
He thought about what Buck had said. About how his repressed feelings were causing so much pain. He swallowed and kept talking.
“I kept trying to find Christopher a new mother. I think part of me was scared to admit that he already had two parents. I think there’s been this war in my head for so fucking long, Brian. Like… like in my heart, or core, or fucking soul or whatever, I know that Buck is it. Buck is the only person who could ever complete this family unit. That he’s the only one that I never want to run from. Sometimes I want to want to run from him. You know? Like, I wish my body would let me want that. It’s what I know. I know how to run. I know how to escape. I know… I know how to flee from things that are too real, too suffocating.
“But not him. Never him. Because it’s like he pins me there. Like the idea of hurting him is paralysing. Like… Like…”
He ran his hands over his face, something desperate and sad unlocking in his chest. Some thoughts he’d had, but never allowed himself to verbalise. Not out loud. Certainly not in a church, with his priest friend and a creepy Jesus staring at him.
“Like I’m in love. Like I’ve spent my whole life thinking love was one thing, and I know, somewhere inside me, not conscious, but somewhere, I know that I’m wrong. Because there’s Buck. And there’s Buck and Christopher. And that’s love. That’s… paralysing, terrifying, soul-shattering fear of losing what I never even knew I had. I… I’ve resented wanting it. I’ve resented and hidden from wanting him. I don’t even think I knew I was doing it, but…
“But this door is going to fucking close on me, and what if this is always what it’s been about? What if this is why I couldn’t make things work with Shannon? What if this is why I feel like my body is physically rejecting any attempt I make to learn to love someone else? What if this is why I hurt my son the way I did? What if my own refusal to admit that I love him is… is some kind of fucked up self harm? What if it’s hurting everyone else too?”
Brian reached across the table, and gripped Eddie’s hand tight in his own. “Eddie…” He said slowly, “I know we haven’t known each other long, and that maybe this is a weird thing to say, but I’m really… proud. What does it look like for you? Letting go of that self hate and seeking joy? Where do you go from here?”
He hummed, “I think I need to talk to my son. Explain. I think… I think I need to go back to therapy. I think I need to express to Buck why I’ve been so… confusing for so long. Why I’ve held onto him so tightly and kept him at arms distance for so long.”
Brian smiled again, “I think that’s a really good idea, Eddie.”
“I think sitting in front of your Creepy Jesus and admitting I’m in love with a man might be the most strange moment of my entire life. And my best friend actively believes in curses.”
Brian laughed, genuine and happy. Happy for Eddie. What a concept.
“For what it’s worth, I know you don’t believe in God, and that’s okay. You don’t have to. But I do, and the God that I believe in, I believe he loves you. I believe that being in love is, in some cases, as close to godliness as we can get. I believe that my Father wants you to accept that love, and wants you to be happy and fulfilled by it.”
Eddie didn’t want to get choked up. He’d been too emotional too much lately.
But it was joy. Eddie was accepting joy.
And hearing his new friend, however unlikely, tell him that he believed, despite his faith, that Eddie was entitled to the love he wanted… Eddie thought maybe it healed some wound in him he hadn’t ever been able to close.
*
Buck might just throw up from his guilt. That was the annoying thing— he wanted to keep on being annoyed.
He wanted to go over it in his head and tell himself again that Eddie had been pushing him away first.
That Eddie had been talking to everyone except him about Christopher, and refusing to answer any of his questions, and disappearing at mysterious times while refusing to tell Buck about why.
He wanted to be angry and self righteous and continue to insist that he had every right to hook up with whoever he wanted whenever he wanted and Eddie had no business feeling anything about it.
But mostly he just wanted to apologise.
He wanted to apologise for not seeing that Eddie needed him. He wanted to apologise for every time he’d blown Eddie off to hide from his feelings. He wanted to apologise for the rejection that he hadn’t even really understood he was giving.
Because in his mind, Eddie was straight. Eddie was a straight guy who’d tried to make Buck feel better by dancing with him, and Buck had read into it, and made things awkward, and—
He was such a fucking idiot.
The second Eddie had said the words, it had all clicked into place. He knew Eddie was jealous. Logically.
Buck, contrary to popular opinion, was not that stupid.
What he was, however, was delusionally uncertain of himself.
Because being wanted physically, he understood that. He knew what that was, and it could fill a certain hole in him, no pun intended.
But being loved, being valued, being understood, those were things Buck didn’t think he could have.
No one stayed for Buck. No one wanted to be there with him when he fell apart and acted selfish and emotional and bad.
If he was being honest with himself, maybe that was what had just happened. Maybe Buck had lashed out to prove a point. To prove that Eddie would leave him too, when he inevitably fucked up so badly that everyone would come to hate him.
Only, that had backfired pretty spectacularly when, instead of abandoning him, Eddie had confronted him, insisted that he wanted more of Buck’s time. That he deserved better than being a last choice.
And it was ludicrous, really, to believe that Eddie was anything other than Buck’s first choice.
But Buck was so fucking used to being left behind. He was used to having to suffer to prove himself. He was used to people getting a little too close and fleeing him.
Abby, Ali, Taylor, Natalia, Tommy.
They’d all left when they’d seen him a little too clearly.
Eddie was his best friend. Eddie was his favourite person.
If trying to deserve romantic love was what made people stop wanting him around, then Buck couldn’t allow Eddie to see him that way. He couldn’t allow Eddie to be another person who left him when Buck asked for too much.
He might survive losing any of the others, but he wasn’t sure he could handle losing Eddie too. The only person in the world, save for his sister, who made him feel as though who he was was worth staying for.
It was a double edged sword. Partly, it was Buck pushing Eddie away because then at least it would be his fault. His choice. Because then at least it would be something he could control and not another abandonment that happened to him.
But partly it was a desperation for Eddie to prove him wrong. For Eddie to hold him tighter and tell him to fucking knock it off. It wasn’t fair, to push Eddie away in the hope that he’d come back, and Buck knew that. He knew it. But he hadn’t even consciously known he was doing it until it had been done.
There was another thing too, a fear of wanting more than he was allowed to want. A fear that Eddie would see right through him and run. Eddie had the tendency to run. Buck didn’t want to watch Eddie run from him. None of it was rational or logical or fair, and Buck knew that. Buck knew how unfair he was being.
He had to make it right.
That was how he wound up in front of Eddie’s.
That was how he wound up, hand on his phone, desperately calling for someone, for anyone. 9-1-1 had already been called, that was obvious from the devastation in front of him, but Buck had called Eddie’s number thirty times already, and he hadn’t gotten an answer.
He had no equipment. He had no backup. He had no plan.
All he had was Eddie’s car in the driveway, engulfed in flame and burned nearly beyond recognition. All he had was Eddie’s porch light on, like it always was when Eddie was home and had forgotten to switch it off the following morning.
All he had was Eddie’s shoes on the front doorstep, melting into being nearly unrecognisable.
Buck wanted to run in, but there was no way to and he knew it.
There was nothing to salvage.
The flames were catastrophic. In a matter of moments, he could hear sirens, too many sirens, coming towards him. There were firefighters inside already, blurry faces he couldn’t focus on who refused to let him get any closer to the chaos.
The flames had spread to Eddie’s neighbours' houses. The firefighters had already gotten them out.
Buck stayed still, staring into the blaze like Eddie would walk right through it, totally fine and unharmed. What could he do but hope?
There was no getting into the house.
There was no getting him out.
He called Eddie’s phone again.
This is Eddie Diaz. Keep it brief.
Buck whimpered into the phone, desperate for some sign, any sign, that Eddie might not be home. His car was in the drive. He wasn’t answering the phone.
“What?! No, I haven’t heard from him— hang on, I’m coming. I’m coming.” Chim had told him.
“Hold on, Buck, I’ll be there in five. No, I— no. I’m sorry.” Hen had said.
“En route. Hang tight. He isn’t answering the phone.” Bobby had sounded urgent and worried, but in control.
Buck called Eddie again.
This is Eddie Diaz. Keep it brief.
Buck grabbed the arm of a cop on the scene, ignoring any response he got in favour of pleading for some news. “Did they find anyone? Have they found anyone?”
All he heard was that they wouldn’t tell him.
They all said they couldn’t tell him. That he should stay put, that he was a liability when he wasn’t on shift. That they had it covered. That other firehouses were on their way.
Buck stared at Eddie’s destroyed car. His destroyed home. He stared at the wreckage and he prayed that Eddie wasn’t in it. He was so afraid that Eddie was in it.
He heard the words ‘confirmed deceased’ and any tiny shred of dignity or composure he’d been maintaining snapped in two.
Buck hit the ground before he realised he was falling, his hands on the hard gravel. He felt the sting, but far away, through some kind of fog.
Someone was holding him back. He assumed it was a stranger, until he heard Bobby’s familiar voice in his ear. “Buck, Buck— we have to let them do their jobs. We don’t know anything.” He said other things too, but Buck didn’t hear them. Buck didn’t hear anything.
He watched the Diaz home be razed into nothing and he thought about the memories there. Christopher Diaz, little and innocent, greeting him at that front door.
Eddie and Buck in that truck, laughing about their shitty attempts at singing along to the Top 100s.
Eddie and Buck sitting on that couch.
Eddie and Buck dancing in that living room.
They’d nearly kissed. Buck had looked at Eddie’s lips and he’d wanted so bad it had felt crushing. He hadn’t let himself take. He’d forced himself to pull back.
He’d forced himself to remember that if he had a rebound, it wouldn’t be Eddie.
He’d forced himself to remember that Eddie was straight, and whatever he felt wasn’t reciprocated.
He’d forced himself to remember that Eddie was vulnerable, and feeling lonely.
He’d forced himself to remember that anyone he loved left, and that if he loved Eddie too hard, he’d find a way to ruin that too.
He’d forced himself to remember that he wasn’t allowed to be Eddie’s first and last anyway, that he wasn’t good enough to be his anything.
Buck had spiralled and he’d run and he’d hurt Eddie and—
Oh, god, he was never going to get to apologise.
He was never going to get to tell Eddie that he loved him.
He was never going to kiss him, or hold him or make him feel as loved as he deserved.
He was never going to be able to make up for his own stupid and selfish actions.
“Buck.”
He couldn’t hear it through the crackling, screaming, hissing of the fire.
He couldn’t hear it through his screaming thoughts.
“Buck, please.”
It wasn’t real, it wasn’t there, he was losing it.
His brain was telling him what he wanted to hear.
“Buck, hey, it’s not— I’m right here—”
The hands on his shoulders were firm and steady, but Eddie couldn’t be there. Eddie couldn’t be comforting him when Eddie’s entire life had just gone up in flames.
Eddie’s car was there. Eddie wasn’t answering the phone.
“Breathe for me, Buck. Breathe for me, love.” Eddie came into view, and he was red faced and teary eyed. He didn’t look real. Couldn’t be real. “Can you squeeze my hand, Buck?”
Buck didn’t trust his own ears. He didn’t trust his own eyes.
“Evan.”
Something seemed to right itself in Buck’s brain.
Because, Evan —
“Eds.” He whispered, and then there was a man in his arms, firm and hot and breathing so hard that his whole body seemed to shake with it. “Eddie.” He sounded like he was pleading. Maybe he was.
“I’m here,” Eddie’s voice was soft. There wasn’t anger. There wasn’t even impatience. It was like a bottomless well of love to drink from, and Buck was fucking parched.
“Eddie,” Buck repeated his name like a prayer, fingers digging into eddie’s skin,desperate to hold him closer, to open him up and examine the contents to make sure he was still whole, no piece of him missing from Buck. He wanted to wrap Eddie up. He wanted to carve out a spot between his own ribs where he could store Eddie, keep him safe, keep him complete.
“We’re okay, Buck. We’re okay. It’s just stuff.”
*
Eddie, Buck, Bobby, Athena, Chimney, Hen and Ravi stood in the firehouse loft, covered in grime and sporting equally exhausted expressions.
Despite all that Eddie had just lost, he didn’t look as devastated as Buck had expected.
He stood passive at Buck’s side, blanket wrapped around his shoulders — despite his numerous attempts to shuck it off.
The team had given up attempting to get him to talk about it, because he said the same thing every time.
“It’s just stuff.”
He didn’t seem okay, exactly. But he didn’t seem half as distraught as they were all expecting. Hell, Buck thought he might have been taking it harder than Eddie was. Eddie’s place wasn’t where he lived, but in some ways, it still felt like Buck’s first actual home.
Eddie had parted from Buck’s side only once since finding him at the scene of the fire, and it was to call Christopher. He’d insisted on going alone, and when he’d returned, he’d seemed… sort of okay. Not happy, nor sad. But… calm.
He’d calmly told them that Christopher was aware, that he would be calling later on to discuss returning to LA to be with his father, and to see if anything could be salvaged.
They all knew nothing would be salvaged. It was gone, and that was the fuck of it all, because none of them had realised, even despite the job they did, how temporary and fragile all of it was.
Because Christopher had lost something else, and after everything, it felt too big. Too much. Too cruel.
Athena had told them all that there would be an investigation into the cause of the fire.
Eddie hadn’t seemed particularly phased by it.
He didn’t seem particularly phased when a fucking Priest walked through the door either.
Buck blinked at him, wondering if he was actually losing his mind. If it was some kind of… It’s a Wonderful Life type of thing.
“Brian,” Eddie breathed out, seeming genuinely pleased to see the priest.
Buck stared, so confused that he really thought he might have a concussion of some kind.
The young, good looking priest hugged Eddie and Buck just kept on staring. It was an insane time to feel a spike of jealousy, but unhinged behaviour had never been too unusual for Buck.
He might deserve the rush of jealousy, but that didn’t mean he was any more comfortable with it. He’d done enough damage, he had no right to expect anything at all from Eddie.
Except that the priest turned to him once he and Eddie had exchanged a few hushed words.
“Buck, I’m guessing.” He held out a hand for Buck to shake. Buck took it, but stared down at the offending hand like it was some alien lifeform.
Since when was Eddie all close to priests?
“Um… yeah. Sorry— who are you?” He hoped he didn’t sound rude. He was still too emotionally burned out to be too aware of himself though.
The priest smiled, “I’m Eddie’s friend, Brian. I’ve heard so much about you.” The way he said it was almost coy, and Buck was confused when Eddie elbowed the priest, who only laughed in response.
Buck’s brain was too fried to understand what was happening. All he knew was Eddie was alive and breathing and, somehow, against all odds, smiling too.
“Father?” Bobby asked, and a lot of people exchanged a lot of looks.
“Bobby?” Eddie’s priest answered, smiling a little like it was the most interesting and serendipitous thing in the world. “Somehow, I’m not surprised that you’re their Captain.”
It wasn’t until later, when the metaphorical dust had settled, the reports had been made, and the team had disbanded to their respective homes that Buck’s mind cleared enough to question it. By then, Eddie was sitting on Buck’s stupid, uncomfortable couch, and Buck was staring at him like he was a living miracle, and everything felt like it was ornamental somehow. Nothing quite felt real. The world felt… shiny. Buck thought he might be having some kind of breakdown.
“So… priest…?” Buck asked, still too jumbled to articulate himself as well as he might have liked.
Eddie was smiling again, and Buck couldn’t understand how Eddie couldn’t stop smiling.
He’d just watched his life burn to the ground, yet still, he was smiling.
“Priest.” Eddie repeated with a smile, “Brian. He… actually helped me a lot.”
Buck nodded, waiting.
“He told me to seek out joy. To let myself have it. To stop… punishing myself.”
Buck breathed a sigh. “I know how hypocritical this is, believe me, I know. But if you tell me you’re in love with a priest I’m going to flee the country and change my name.”
Eddie laughed, bright and alive in a way that seemed not to fit with the day’s events. “No. Although, you’d kind of deserve it. But no. More like, Brian helped me to finally confront… what was it you said? My repressed feelings.”
Buck winced. “God, Eddie, I have so fucking much to apologise for.” He mumbled.
Eddie shook it off. “I don’t want your apologies, Buck. I want to go forward. I saw you. When you thought I was gone, y’know. I was there. And so I know. I know you love me too. I know you’re scared too. I know we’re both really, really damaged, and I know we’re both really, really fucking scared and I know we both acted selfishly. I don’t care.” He took a deep breath, “I’m just… I’m done punishing myself for who I am. I’m done letting my self-hate hurt the people I love. I’m done running from myself.”
Buck blinked at him, genuinely taken aback by how clear and concise and confident Eddie seemed.
“Huh?” Buck mumbled, intelligently.
“I’ve had enough of it, Buck.” Eddie said again, soft. “The day you broke up with Tommy, Father Brian told me to let myself have joy. And I danced in my underwear. And you showed up, and I wanted you to feel joy too. And then I wanted to kiss you. I watched you run and push back, just like I had before. And I know what you were doing, Buck. I know you were running. I know you’re hurting yourself as much as you’re hurting me. Turns out, I can forgive you for that.” Eddie’s voice was soft, and his eyes were resolute on Buck’s face. “I thought I was a lot angrier before I saw you on your knees outside my house and then it just…
“Buck, we have spent so fucking long circling around each other. We have spent so fucking long not looking at it for too long. Not letting it get too close. But everything I own in the world is gone and… it’s okay. I’m okay. Because for the first time in my life, I think I might— I think I might be ready to start over. I think I might be ready to… build something new. With you, hopefully.”
Buck’s eyes were wet, and his voice shook when he spoke. “I was running,” He agreed quietly, “I was scared I was seeing things that night. I was scared that if I— that if I let you get too close, you’d leave me, like everyone else. I was scared that if I had a taste of you, I’d never be able to want anything else. I was so fucking scared, and I let that fear take control and I hurt you with it and I’m so— Eddie, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Eddie smiled a little. “I’m ready to forgive myself, I think, for not being the man I thought I should be. I think about the me I was when I was little and I— I can’t think of anything worse than setting the example for my son that I should be disappointed in who that little boy grew up to be. So I’m… forgiving myself, and I’m letting myself find joy. And I think you should join me.”
Buck nodded rapidly. He was so unbelievably, unfathomably lucky that Eddie was as forgiving, as understanding as he was.
“I’m sorry.” Buck said again, desperate to make it sink in. Desperate to make it count. “I was selfish and emotional and— and— I thought I was protecting myself but I was hurting you and I— Eddie you deserve better than—”
“I don’t want better.” Eddie intercepted. “I want you. When you’re emotional and selfish and irrational, I want you. And I want you to want me too. Even when I’m confusing and closed off and repressed and short-sighted. I want us to work through it together. I want us to be horrible messes together. I want therapy, and a new house, and our son back. I want things to get better, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the things I want anymore.”
“I want to be better. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
Eddie smiled, “That’s why I love you. Not because you’re perfect. Not because you’re always logical or selfless or exceptional. I love you because you never, never stop trying.” He paused, “Which, incidentally, is something I’ve been meaning to mention, Evan.” He said the name like it was a joke. A tease. A callback to sitting on a hospital bed together, navigating a love confession that wasn’t ready to be a love confession yet. “I know you started doing this casual hookup thing because you were tired of trying and not having it reciprocated. For what it’s worth, I’d really like to have the chance to reciprocate it.”
Buck nodded, rapid and emotional and desperate. It was all he wanted. Fuck casual sex. Fuck casual anything. He wanted Eddie. He’d wanted Eddie since he met Eddie.
He wanted love and family and someone who wouldn’t let him self-destruct away.
He wanted Eddie and the way he’d rather fight him than abandon him.
“I want you to reciprocate me so hard.” Buck whispered, irrationally.
Eddie was smiling again. He seemed free. It looked amazing on him.
“Good. Because if I ever have to hear you talk about hooking up with some random stranger again, I am going to do something drastic. I mean, really, you have been driving me fucking insane.”
“Please don’t start something you can’t finish right now.” Buck mumbled, his cheeks reddening.
“We have time for that later.” Eddie agreed, voice soft.
“I love you. I’m really, really scared. I’m really, really scared that you’re going to get bored of me, Eddie. Like Tommy or Abby or any of them. And I know that isn’t fair, and I don’t want to project that trauma onto you, but I’m really scared.”
Eddie’s hand found the back of Buck’s neck, squeezing comfortingly. “I love you too.” Eddie whispered, “In front of Creepy Jesus and a priest and everything. I’m scared too. I’m scared and I’m burned out and I’m still a little mad at you. But I love you anyway. I know you love me anyway. I’m willing to risk it all for you.”
Eddie kissed him, and it tasted like ash and hope.