Chapter Text
"Buck, I promise I'll be fine on my own. You really don't need to be doing all this," Eddie said as he dropped a suitcase full of clothes onto his guest bed. Turning around, Buck was just smiling back at him, the smallest ounce of pettiness plastered on his face. "But I really don't think there's much stopping you," he conceded.
"That's exactly right Eds," he replied, the smirk on his face growing wider. Dropping a similar-sized bag onto the bed, he flopped down beside the luggage, looking up at Eddie. "Smoke inhalation can have long lasting effects on the body," he recited in some faux-educational voice. "I wouldn't want you to be in any type of danger here all on your own."
Eddie rolled his eyes before letting out an involuntary laugh. "I do have a son that also lives here, you know."
Buck looked around the room for a minute, as if Chris was just hiding in a corner or something. "Really, Eddie? Because you know, I can't see him. Wait, don't I recall something about Christopher visiting his Tía for the weekend?"
Eddie playfully scoffed at the full name and his cadence. "Okay, I usually have a son that also lives here."
"So what I'm hearing is that you have no one to watch after you for the next two days."
Finding no point in continuing this losing battle, Eddie gave in. "Fine, you've made your point," he said with his hands up.
Buck gave him another faux smile. "Wonderful," he said, much too chipper. "So, any dinner requests?"
Eddie scoffed again before turning around to head back into the hallway. "Chef's special," he said without turning back. "I'm sure you'll think of something."
"Aye aye."
...
After mulling over the contents of Eddie's fridge for the better part of an hour, Buck decided on spaghetti with garlic bread.
"I'm telling you," Buck started again after placing the two bowls on the dining room table. "You've gotta be more diverse in your groceries. I swear, it's just ground beef and vegetables in there."
Eddie shrugged. "Only the necessities. Why would I buy more than that?"
Buck looked appalled at his answer, but not very surprised. "Oh, I don't know, joy? The beauty of choice? Just throwing it out there. Also, how is Chris not sick of the same three dinners on repeat?"
"That's why we have you," Eddie responded, holding his hands out in Buck's direction. "And second of all, what? You think I'm not choosing joy because of the food I buy?"
Suddenly, he paused. This seemed all too familiar.
Whatever Buck replied just became static in Eddie's ears. Because it didn't matter. Maybe this was the thing that he had been trying to fix all this time. Perhaps it actually meant something.
"Earth to Eddie?" he heard after a moment, looking up to see Buck waving a hand in his face."
"Hm? Sorry, I guess I just—zoned out, or something."
Buck seemed to accept that as a plausible enough answer, and went back to rambling about groceries.
"It's almost like the—shit! I forgot about the garlic bread," Buck said after a moment, snapping himself out of his ramblings with wide eyes.
As he was about to get up, Eddie beat him to it.
"Here," he said, motioning for Buck to sit back down. "I'm closer to the oven anyway."
Standing up, that little groove in the carpet he always stumbled over made itself known once again.
Before he could even process the fact that he managed to avoid faceplanting in the middle of the dining room, he could feel hands around his torso and a voice yelling "Eddie!"
He looked over at Buck, whose eyes were currently knitted with worry. Though he was only looking at his face, he could feel his warm hands trembling.
"I'm—okay, Buck," he said after a moment, but neither of them moved.
"You—sorry, you just were gonna—"
"It's fine, thanks," Eddie said before turning away, getting a better angle to properly stand back up. Slowly, he continued walking back over to the oven, grabbing the mitts to take out the half-burnt garlic bread. He placed it on the stove, not really wanting to turn around again.
"Are you okay?" Buck quietly asked, as Eddie still faced the oven. His voice was smaller than Eddie had ever heard it before, it was almost a whisper.
"Y-yeah," he replied after a moment, torn between feeling upset or anxious—both feelings he couldn't really understand.
This shouldn't be difficult, you stumbled and he acted on reflex, he thought to himself. You should be grateful, if anything.
But Eddie wasn't grateful. He still couldn't place exactly what emotion he was feeling. His hands gripped the handle of the oven harder.
After another painstakingly long minute of staring into nothingness, Eddie let go and walked back over to the table, being mindful of the rug this time. The garlic bread sat forgotten on the stove.
He picked up his fork and finally began to eat, spaghetti now slightly cold. The room, the silence, and the air all felt so vehemently off. Perhaps even the whole house. He could feel Buck's eyes staring at him, but continued to avoid meeting his gaze.
A couple more minutes passed in silence before Buck spoke again. "You're not okay."
That got Eddie's attention.
He finally looked up at Buck, who was expectedly staring back at him. "What?"
"In the kitchen," he said, pointing to where Eddie stood moments ago. "You—that couldn't have been the actual truth."
"Buck, I seriously don't know what you're talking abo—"
"You're not okay!" he repeated, cutting Eddie off. "I know you, Eddie. I know when something's bothering you, a-and it is. So just tell me what's wrong or—or don't I guess."
He looked up at Buck again, who looked defeated. It was a look that he'd seen on his best friend many times before, but never a look that he had actually caused. It made his stomach twist.
Eddie sighed before speaking again. "It's just—why do you always do that?"
Buck's face shifted to one of confusion. "What—what are you talking about?"
"That thing," Eddie said, motioning his arms out once more. "You—I tripped on the stupid rug, a-and you were up in a flash. No thinking, no pause. Just a reflex. It's always just a reflex."
"So you're mad at me for—having fast reflexes?" he asked.
"The refle—no it's not the reflexes, it's just—" he paused searching for the right words. "The saving. The protecting. It's just second nature to you. I mean, Jesus Christ Buck, I tripped on the stupid rug, and you were up quicker than I could even break my fall."
Buck said nothing, he just stared back at Eddie, blinking.
Eddie shook his head. "No—it's not just the rug, I mean—that just set me off, or something. But it was that fire, the sniper, just everything. I just—I feel like something happens to me, and you're just there. No thinking, no regard for your own safety. Buck, that fire was dangerous. You could have died."
"But that's our job, Eddie!" he quickly retorted. "It doesn't matter if it's you I'm saving or some complete stranger, it comes with the title. Do you know how many unsafe buildings I've ran into? How many times I've been scolded by Bobby because of it?"
"But that doesn't mean you have to!" Eddie snapped back. "Yeah, maybe the job requires you to go into burning buildings to help people after the proper precautions have been met, but that doesn't matter to you. I mean, did Chim even grant you permission to come running in for me?"
"So what if he did or not? And so what for precautions? You're telling me that you've waited for clearance before doing everything? I know you, Eddie. I've seen the risks you take for others. So you can't stand up scolding me for doing the same."
And maybe he had a bit of a point. But that wasn't what was important to Eddie at the moment.
"You really think that's what I'm getting at? When have I ever endorsed leading by example?"
"You always preach that big chain of command thing, it's like your catchphrase," Buck remarked with wide eyes. "You're gonna tell me that's not the same exact thing?"
"Look, it doesn't even matter, what are we even saying anymore?" he asked honestly, because this whole thing had gotten way out of hand.
Buck shook his head, taking a deep breath. Eddie could see his body physically de-escalate. The two of them hated being mad at each other. And even when they did argue, it was always resolved in a matter of hours. It was as if it was impossible for the tension to exist for more than a day.
"I'm sorry," Eddie started. "I know I don't have any real reason to be upset."
"Eddie, it's not—"
"Please," he cut Buck off, holding his hand out. "Just let me finish," he said with pleading eyes.
Buck snapped his mouth shut, giving a soft nod. His face went back to that vaguely worried look he so often had.
Eddie closed his eyes, slightly shaking his head. Figuring out what exactly it was he wanted to say was still a work in progress.
"I know this doesn't matter," he started. "I know no matter what I say, you're gonna keep putting your life on the line for others, for—for me. It's just who you are, Buck. And nothing I do can change that. But it doesn't mean I'm gonna stop worrying." He paused, just staring at Buck for a moment. "You scare me half to death with some of the shit you do, and learning to live with that—it never gets easy."
Slowly, Buck nodded. "You don't think I don't feel the same way? That I'm not terrified every day that some day soon will be your last? It's why I do what I do. It's why I automatically panic over trips on carpets. And it's why I'd run into that building a thousand more times if you were in there."
Eddie shook his head again, slightly laughing under his breath. "And that's why," he said, voice quieter than a whisper.
Buck's eyes widened in confusion. "Why what?"
"Why I love you."
And just like that, he put a word to it. A word that explains all of the crazy, complicated feelings he's mulled over for nearly a decade. Love.
Buck's eyes widened even more, but he stayed silent.
After another moment, Eddie spoke again. "Seriously man, if you're gonna say something, now would be the time to—"
Suddenly, he was cut off by a pair of lips on his own.
And after Eddie could process what was actually happening, it was everything. It was fireworks at the end of a parade, it was the first bite of a favorite dish, it was a cup of hot cocoa by the fireplace. It was a feeling so indescribable, he couldn't even put into words how amazing it felt.
When Buck finally pulled away, his pupils looked blown. It was the first thing Eddie noticed, the first thing his mind could attach onto that wasn't just an everlasting loop of ohmygodohmygodohmygod.
"Sorry, I, uh—" Buck started, squeezing his eyes shut. "I shoulda asked first."
"Buck."
His eyes blinked open once more. "Yeah?"
And this time it was Eddie who closed the gap.
Their second kiss was softer than the first. It was sweeter, less rushed than the one from just moments before, almost communicating a completely different language. Buck immediately reciprocated, melting into it.
When they broke apart for a second time, Buck began to laugh.
"Wow, okay, yeah. Probably the best reaction I could have gotten to that. I love you too, in case you were wondering."
Eddie immediately followed suit, laughing as he lifted his head to fully look at Buck. "In case you were wondering," he repeated. "Yeah Buck, it may have been on my mind."
"Oh was it?" he joked back. "I really didn't think it'd crack the list of top priorities."
Eddie laughed again, looking back down at the dinner table. "This spaghetti is definitely too cold now." Turning back to Buck, he continued. "Wanna order takeout?"
"You read my mind."