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The moment Buck stepped out of the firetruck, he made a beeline towards the showers. One day, in the hopefully near future, people would pick someone other than him to throw up on, but today was not that day. Realistically he knew it did happen to other people, but today it had been him and only him and he felt gross.
Luckily, they missed his face and mostly hit his lower torso area. But even though he’d rinsed off as much as he could on scene, the water seeping into his clothes also made it feel like everything else had seeped in as well, and he was so ready to wash himself clean.
He stripped off his shirt before even reaching his locker but held off on discarding his pants until he reached the privacy of the showers. He dumped the shirt in the communal hamper as he passed it, then dove into his locker for his shower caddie and towel.
Buck took a few steps towards the showers, idly checking the contents of the caddie to make sure he’d actually replaced his shampoo like he’d meant to last week, until he paused abruptly.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me, not today!”
“I told you to replace your shampoo—”
“I did!” Buck said, turning an affronted gaze on Eddie. “The shampoo is here, but my body wash isn’t. I know for a fact that one was still half full...” Buck shoved some things around the caddie to make sure he hadn’t just missed it, but there wasn’t exactly much in the caddie to lose it in.
“Maybe it fell out in your locker?” Eddie suggested.
Buck returned to the locker to check; nope, the area where his caddie had been sitting was completely empty. He checked the rest of his locker, but it wasn’t anywhere.
“Maybe I left it in the shower,” Buck muttered half-heartedly. It wasn’t likely; he was usually pretty meticulous about collecting his products from the shower at work.
“Here,” Eddie said, offering his own body wash from his locker.
“Thanks, man,” Buck said in relief. He shoved the thought of his missing body wash aside, resolving to replace it the next time he went grocery shopping. For now, he desperately needed to feel clean again, so he rushed to the showers, dodging other locker room occupants in the process, and stripped out of his pants as fast as he could.
Once replaced, Buck had completely forgotten about the case of his missing body wash. It wasn’t much of a case; Buck figured he must have left it out on one of the benches in a rush to leave and someone else either picked it up thinking it was communal or threw it out.
He’d forgotten about it until a few days later, when his deodorant went missing from his locker, too.
“I’m not misplacing things, I swear,” Buck grumbled, banging his forehead against his open locker door. “I know it was here yesterday.”
“Here,” Eddie offered, handing over his own deodorant spray. “Can’t have you smelling gross if we’re sitting next to each other on the truck.”
If, Buck huffed silently. As if they’d manage to get through an entire shift without sitting next to each other. Buck took the offered spray without fuss. “Thanks.”
It was by the time the third item went missing that Buck had an idea of what exactly was going on here. This time, it was his toothpaste. He noticed its disappearance when he went to brush his teeth as part of his nightly routine, and couldn’t find the tube of toothpaste on the sink where he’d left it that morning.
Buck searched everywhere he could think of—even the refrigerator, having embarrassingly left his car keys in there once—but it was nowhere to be found.
Buck grimaced, running his tongue over his teeth. He could stand to go without brushing for the night, but he definitely would want to brush his teeth in the morning before work, and he didn’t look forward to waking up early to go to a convenience store to replace the toothpaste.
Or maybe instead of waking up early, he could just ask Eddie to bring him a replacement to the station and he could brush his teeth there. After all, that was what was going on here, right? This was all an elaborate plan by Eddie to slowly wean him off his own products so he’d have to start using his stuff instead. Eddie had not so subtly been playfully ribbing him about the expensive self-care products he chose to use, and part of Buck wondered if this was a giant set up for an elaborate prank. Buck allowed himself to be impressed that he couldn’t figure out what the endgame was here, but he trusted Eddie enough to know that the punchline of the prank would be something everyone—himself included—could laugh about in the end.
The endgame had to be near though if Eddie had reached the point of sneaking into his apartment. He hadn’t been subtle about it at all; after shift Eddie had even left early in uniform instead of changing into civvies, and Buck now knew it was probably so he could get to Buck’s apartment to swipe his toothpaste before Buck could make it back himself.
The more Buck thought about it, the more he didn’t mind whatever prank was being set up against him. After all, it was hardly the worst thing in the world: smelling like Eddie after stepping out of the shower, tasting like Eddie after he used his toothpaste—
Buck’s face felt hot. Maybe he was overthinking this.
Regardless, he really did need toothpaste tomorrow, so reaching for his phone, Buck opened up his messages to Eddie.
sent
Hey could you bring some toothpaste to
the station tomorrow?
Eddie
Sure
You couldn’t get a refill when you got
your body wash?
sent
I would have if I needed it
It was practically full this morning and
now it’s just gone
I can’t find it anywhere
Eddie
Did you check the refrigerator?
sent
Fuck off
Eddie
;)
Buck shook his head fondly. He placed his toothbrush near his car keys so he’d remember to bring it in the morning, then finished getting ready for bed. He could confront Eddie about the missing products in the morning.
“Here,” Eddie said, offering Buck his toothpaste the moment he stepped into the locker rooms.
“Thanks,” Buck said, taking it and his toothbrush to the nearest sink. Eddie waited for him as he brushed, so Buck handed the tube back while his mouth was still full of suds. “Th’nks,” he said again, voice garbled around the brush in his mouth.
Eddie chuckled fondly, returning the tube to his locker. “You know, I’m really looking forward to getting a text from you a week from now saying you found your toothpaste in one of your plants or something.”
Buck snorted, “Is that where you hid it?”
“What d’you mean?” Eddie blinked.
Buck rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I know you’ve been taking my stuff, and making me buy more of my ‘expensive shit’ in the process—”
“Buck, what—?”
“You were not subtle yesterday when you ran out of the station—”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re really gonna deny it?” Buck asked, giving Eddie a disbelieving look. At the blank stare he got in return, Buck nodded sagely. “Ah, I get it, you don’t want to spoil whatever the others have planned—”
“Buck,” Eddie reached out to grab his arm, silencing him mid-sentence. “Listen to me. I haven’t been taking your stuff. I would never abuse your trust and sneak into your apartment to take something from you. Even just toothpaste.”
Buck gaped, mouth opening and shutting silently like a fish out of water. Eddie was looking at him dead in the eyes, face open, earnest, and concerned, and it hit Buck like a ton of bricks. Eddie wasn’t lying to him.
“Sorry, I just...” Buck swallowed. Maybe he had just been misplacing things? He felt like a jerk now. “I thought I’d figured out why my stuff was disappearing, but maybe I am just being forgetful.”
Eddie’s brows furrowed in concern, and he looked like he was about to say something when Bobby’s voice hollered to convene their pre-shift meeting. Eddie gave his arm a squeeze before letting it go, and began heading out towards the loft. Buck was about to follow when he spotted one of the new recruits out of the corner of his eye, slow in lacing his boots. He was technically a part of the B-shift crew, but he’d been one of the people loaned to A-shift for the next few weeks due to Barnett’s broken ankle and Calley’s broken ribs.
“C’mon, man, you don’t want to make Cap wait,” Buck said.
He nodded quickly in response, and Buck left to follow Eddie, content that the message had been received.
In the days that followed, Buck tried to put the issue of his missing items aside. He was sure that he hadn’t been misplacing things, but he believed Eddie when he said he hadn’t been hiding them. He wasn’t sure what the alternative could be, barring some B-list horror films, but Buck didn’t think missing toiletries really qualified for that level of concern.
As much as he tried to convince himself nothing was wrong, paranoia had begun creeping up on him. He’d nearly lost it when he couldn’t find his phone one shift, but it turned out he’d merely left it next to the gaming console when they rushed out for a call.
It did help soothe his nerves when Eddie lost his phone later that same shift, only to find it—wait for it—in the refrigerator.
Buck wasn’t ashamed to say that he howled with laughter for a solid five minutes. Eddie was no longer allowed to get on his case for the car keys incident.
The rest of shift ended with a smattering of minor calls, none too dangerous nor heavy on the heart but busy nonetheless. Everyone was kept busy throughout the calls, and Buck finally had a chance to partner with Faust, another B-shift transfer, for the first time since he’d been assigned to their shift. The man was a bit odd but he had a great sense of humor, so Buck didn’t lament being separated from Eddie too much on the call.
“Hey, you wanna do a movie night tonight?” Buck asked Eddie as they changed in the locker room at the end of shift. The locker room was packed with people from both A- and B-shift, so Buck struggled into his shirt while trying to avoid elbowing anyone in the process.
“Sure, Christopher’s been asking to watch Toy Story 4 with you,” Eddie grinned, catching Buck’s elbow before it connected with Eddie’s forehead.
“Sweet, I’ll bring pizza? In about an hour?” Buck's head poked through his shirt collar as he finally won the battle with his shirt. It felt a little tighter than he was used to, but with how hard Buck had been hitting the gym as of late, he only felt happy with the apparent progress. “I gotta stop by my apartment first, I have to throw the trash out before it starts to smell.”
“No problem, that gives me time to pick up Christopher from school,” Eddie nodded.
With traffic being what it was, Buck arrived at his apartment with enough time to ditch his duffle bag and dump his trash down the chute before it was nearly time to order the pizza if he wanted it ready for him to pick it up on his way to Eddie’s. But before Buck could call their favorite local pizza place, his phone buzzed with a notification.
Eddie
Hey, sorry to cancel last minute
Christopher came down with a bug or
something at school
Probably not a good idea to expose you
too
sent
No problem, he okay??
Eddie
Yeah, he just wants to eat something
light then sleep it off
sent
Want me to come over anyway?
I can bring soup or something
Eddie
No, he doesn’t want you to get sick too
I’ll see you at work tomorrow
sent
Okay, tell him I love him and I hope he
feels better soon
Eddie
Will do
Thanks for understanding, Buck
sent
Always!
While upset his plans for the night had caved in, he was more concerned with Christopher being sick. It didn’t sound too bad if Eddie was so sure he’d be at work tomorrow, but he hated the thought of Christopher suffering nonetheless. He was tempted to bring over some chicken noodle soup anyway, but he didn’t want to upset Christopher if he was that worried about getting Buck sick too. He’d have to make it up to him with pancakes the next time he was over.
When Buck arrived for his shift the following afternoon, the last thing he expected was to be on the receiving end of a Diaz Death Glare. They’d chatted all morning since he’d woken up, and for the life of him, Buck couldn’t figure out what part of their conversation warranted such a hostile reception.
Buck tried to follow him into the locker room to figure out what was going on, but he was treated to a shoulder shove and a biting “Save it” as Eddie moved to his locker.
“Is Christopher okay?” Buck asked; maybe Christopher’s illness had gotten worse and Eddie was just cranky.
“No thanks to you,” Eddie snapped, punctuating the statement with a slam of his locker door. He brushed past Buck without another word and disappeared towards the storage closet to begin working on inventory.
Hurt now on top of being confused, Buck trotted up to the loft and collapsed on the couch. He’d offered to bring something over, how the heck was Buck at fault for not doing so after being told not to bother? Maybe he should’ve brought soup over after all, but Buck didn’t think it was fair for Eddie to have expected it after explicitly telling him not to.
And Eddie had seemed totally fine with Buck that morning! They’d texted up a storm since Buck woke up, and Eddie had never said anything about Christopher feeling worse or blaming Buck for not helping him.
Buck ran through the morning’s conversations again and still came up blank. They’d talked about a new restaurant that opened up, one of the silly calls they responded to yesterday, and the season’s upcoming Rangers/Phillies series (it was so rare that they met in interleague play, it was a big deal). Buck didn’t think he was being too aggressive with his trash talking, Eddie gave it right back and they bantered about their hometown sports teams all the time.
“Trouble in paradise?” Chimney asked. His brow was raised expectantly when Buck looked up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buck grumbled.
Chimney gave a pointed look towards the storage closet, from which Eddie still hadn’t emerged. “I get that something happened between you two, but—”
“Nothing happened!” Buck burst. “I have no idea what’s going on!”
Chimney looked very unimpressed by this, but before he could say anything further, the alarm went off and they were all piling into the trucks and ambulance. Buck took his favorite seat on the far left, hoping Eddie would take the seat across from him so they could talk.
Eddie sat on the far right seat, with Faust in between them.
Buck bit his lip; he didn’t want to get into it with everyone listening in on comms. He chanced a look at Bobby, who he could see staring at him in the rear-view mirror, but Bobby merely sighed and looked away. An anxious pit formed in Buck’s gut. What did he do?
“We’ll be meeting up with the 129 on scene,” Bobby explained through the headsets. “We have a two-alarm fire with the potential for residential spread. Our priority will be to clear the house while the 129 works on containment, and then we’ll be helping with getting the fire under control.”
Once they arrived on scene, the team waited expectantly for Bobby to tag up with the 129’s Captain, the scene’s incident commander, and moments later he was back issuing orders.
“We’ve got a single family residence, no cars in the driveway so we believe the parents are at work, but the neighbor suspects their teenage son is still inside. There’s no basement, so Han, Wilson, you two will take the first floor. Buckley, Falman, take the second. Once you’ve finished clearing your floor, get out and get on a hose. Diaz, Faust, get on the roof to poke a vent, then get back down here to start helping with containment.”
Buck swallowed down his instinctive complaint about getting separated from Eddie; they always got paired off on major scenes, and he’d only interacted with Falman a couple times since his temporary assignment to A-shift. On minor calls he didn’t mind so much, but for a large house fire like this, he wanted the surety of Eddie’s support.
Whatever was going on with Eddie must have made its way to Bobby (and maybe the rest of the team if Chimney knew). The look in the truck, and now being separated on a major call?
As much as Buck wanted to say something, there was potentially a teenager still stuck inside, so Buck decided to tough it out. He nodded, then exchanged a look with Falman before heading into the building with his gear, Falman a few steps behind.
“LAFD, call out!” Buck hollered, clearing the second floor landing and moving to the nearest room. Falman echoed his call, his voice sounding from somewhere on the opposite side of the hallway.
As much as Buck wished it were Eddie at his back rather than someone he’d yet to go through a major call with, he had to admit that Falman seemed very competent as they worked through the second floor landing. So far they hadn’t had any luck in finding the missing teenager, but when Buck reached the kid’s bedroom and found zero sign of his presence there, he started to think they weren’t going to find him.
The thought was confirmed when Buck and Falman were about halfway down the hallway. Bobby’s voice crackled over the radio, letting everyone know that the teenage son had been located at a friend's house, so they were free to exit the building.
All four firefighters exited the building with no trouble, and Eddie and Faust had already returned from the roof, so they all began working to contain the fire. All things considered, it was one of their more tame fire calls, despite the severity of the blaze. The 129 had done an excellent job in preventing residential spread, so it was helpful to just focus on the fire itself. In what felt like no time at all (even if it had really been an exhausting few hours), the fire was reduced to embers by the time another station crew arrived to relieve them.
On the way back to the truck once they’d been dismissed from the scene, Buck tried to get Eddie’s attention as he walked past.
“Hey, Eddie—”
“Nice job in there, Buck,” Falman said, clapping Buck’s shoulder once.
“Thanks,” Buck said, giving the man a distracted smile. By the time he turned back around, Eddie had already taken a seat in the truck, the only adjacent seat occupied by Faust.
Buck withheld a sigh, and sat in the same seat he traveled in. Maybe he would be able to talk to Eddie back at the station and clear whatever problem existed between them.
Unfortunately, it seemed as though Buck had underestimated Eddie’s ability to disappear at the station. Eddie seemed determined in his efforts to avoid Buck for the rest of their shift, even to the point where he bolted from the station in uniform after shift rather than risk running into Buck in the locker room.
By the time Buck returned to his apartment, he was thoroughly downtrodden. He tried calling Eddie several times, but rather than even going to voicemail Eddie had answered and then immediately hung up on him every time so he couldn’t even leave a voice message.
Frustrated and angry now, Buck flopped on his couch and contemplated whether he should try texting Eddie, or even just go over to his house. But before he could try to gather the words he wanted to say, a message pinged his phone.
A breath of relief escaped Buck, reading the message. Perhaps things weren’t so bad between him and Eddie after all.
Eddie
Hey I’m sorry about today, can we talk?
sent
Always man. Want me to head over?
Eddie
No, I’ll come to your place, I’m already
on the road
sent
Alright, see you soon
Who has Christopher?
Eddie
See you soon
Buck frowned, noting the lack of response regarding Christopher, but a moment later he shook the concern away. Eddie said he was driving so perhaps he’d been at a red light that turned green and he couldn’t respond yet. He could always ask again once Eddie got there.
Reassured, Buck settled into his couch and threw his feet up on the other end. He worried over whatever he could have done to cause this rift between them in the first place, but at least Eddie was giving him a chance to talk it out. After everything they’d been through the last few months, they’d decided that no matter what came up between them, they had to communicate and talk through it. They were still working on it but it was nice to see their agreement in practice.
With Eddie already on the road when texting him, Buck knew Eddie would be over in no time. That said, it still somewhat shocked him when only a few minutes after receiving the last text, Buck heard movement from outside his apartment door.
Buck’s back was to the door, so when he heard the lock jiggle and the door pop open a moment later, he didn’t think he could be blamed for automatically assuming it would be Eddie. After all, he’d already indicated that he was on his way over, and he had a key to Buck’s apartment. They let themselves into each other’s spaces all the time. The lack of greeting, however, should have been the first clue; they always announced themselves when entering.
“Feel free to grab a beer from the fridge! Actually, can you grab me one, too?” Buck called, gaze fixed on his phone as he finished a round of Subway Surfers.
The lack of a friendly barb about how he should be watching his alcohol with his blood thinners should have been the second clue. The fridge door opened and moments later he heard a bottle cap clatter on the kitchen counter, and then another one. Footsteps closed in behind him and Buck blindly reached behind him, one hand holding the phone and thumb tapping the screen determinedly. The cold press of a beer bottle settled into his open palm.
“Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.”
The bottle slipped from Buck’s grasp and fell to the floor in a shatter of glass and beer. Game forgotten, Buck coiled his body and spun towards the voice.
Falman looked back at him, eyes wide in surprise as he looked between Buck and the broken fragments on the floor.
“Shit, sorry,” Falman said, walking away from the mess and towards the kitchen towels. “I thought you had it when I let go, I should’ve waited another second.”
Buck watched the man move around his kitchen, not even hesitating as he grabbed a towel and a broom and dustpan. It was like he knew exactly where they would be.
“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, valiantly attempting to keep his voice level. How the hell had he gotten into his apartment?
Falman blinked, stopping at the edge of the mess. “You invited me,” he said, like Buck had asked the silliest thing in the world. Buck looked at his phone and opened his messages; he’d been texting Eddie, he didn’t even have Falman’s number—
The phone disappeared from his hands and panic abruptly closed Buck’s throat as Falman took his only avenue of calling for help away from him. Why hadn’t he been paying more attention, that was so stupid—
“Yeah, see? You invited me,” Falman said, showing him the text conversation.
“I invited Eddie.”
“And here I am,” Falman said, dropping to a squat next to the mess as he picked up the broken neck of the beer bottle. He pointed the broken edge in Buck’s direction. “You stay on the couch while I clean this up, okay? That way you won’t get cut by the glass.”
Buck was far more concerned about being cut by the glass shard being waved in his direction, but he kept the comment to himself. Something was so clearly wrong here and Buck didn’t want to tip Falman over the edge.
Falman had never given any sort of indication that he was this unbalanced; he was a quiet yet diligent worker, always doing the chores Bobby assigned to him without fuss, and always performing competently on calls. In the time he’d been working with A-shift, he’d always been lurking in the background, never making any sort of effort to engage with the team but quietly existing with them, sitting for family dinners—
Next to me, Buck realized, gut clenching through a wave of nausea. Too many times over the last few weeks, Falman had crowded into his space during meal times. His leg would press against Buck’s, his elbow would jossle Buck’s as he used his utensils, his foot would nudge against Buck’s as he shifted... At the time, Buck had attributed the movement and contact to simple fidgeting and a crowded dinner table. After all, he and Eddie constantly exchanged the same touches, so it was no wonder that Buck hadn’t even registered the same on his other side. Even if there had been plenty of space on Falman’s other side.
He’d been sitting across from Buck on the firetruck that day in Eddie’s usual seat.
Buck watched as Falman finished mopping up the spilled beer and began shifting the glass shards into a pile to be collected with the dustpan. Doing so only alerted Buck to another concerning observation.
“Is that my sweater?” Buck asked, already knowing the answer. He’d noticed the sweater missing from his closet when he planned on wearing it to a team karaoke night, but at the time he’d assumed he’d left it at Eddie’s house.
“Oh, yeah.” Falman’s face flushed. “It was really nice of you to lend it to me, I love that we can share our clothes, you know? It makes me feel so much closer to you. I know most of my clothes don’t fit you, but the oversized ones I left for you seemed to fit well!”
Buck’s mouth watered as the nausea he felt earlier slammed back into him in full force. He’d noticed the clothes that weren’t his, he’d worn them, but he thought they were Eddie’s! He looked down at the shirt he was wearing now...no wonder it felt tight, it wasn’t his—
“Falman—”
“No!” Falman shrieked, jabbing the broken bottle in Buck’s direction. Buck flinched violently away but couldn’t move any farther back with the couch arm digging into his back. “No, we’re not at work, you don’t have to call me that.”
“What should I call you then?” Buck asked placatingly. He couldn’t take his eyes off the broken bottle neck.
“What you always call me when it’s just us,” Falman said, and the dazzling, awestruck smile he sent at Buck had him so off kilter in the abruptness of the mood swing that Buck felt like he’d get whiplash.
A memory from weeks ago when Bobby had introduced the temporary additions to A-shift pushed itself to the front of Buck’s mind.
“While Barnett and Calley are both out on temporary medical leave, we’ve had to reshuffle some of our shifts to accommodate the transfers coming from other houses. Two people from the 115 will be joining B-shift, and Charlie Faust and Edward Falman will be joining us from B-shift.”
Falman’s first name was Edward. Oh god, this whole mess was making a little more sense...
“Sorry, Eddie,” Buck said, the name tasting wrong on his lips when it was addressed to someone other than his Eddie.
Falman’s face lit up. “You’re the first person who’s ever called me Eddie, y’know? It was like...we had this connection. You called me this nickname that was just between us, and I knew we’d be the best of friends.”
Falman stepped around the pile of glass and crowded into Buck’s space. Buck didn’t dare make a move against him with the bottle neck shard still pointed in his direction; he couldn’t afford to be cut. The last thing he needed was to deal with excessive blood loss while trying to keep a clear head with a maniac in his apartment.
“Right, the best of friends,” Buck said, nodding encouragingly as he spoke. He needed to lull Falman into a false sense of security, to get Falman away from him long enough to make a break for his apartment door.
“No one’s ever tried to connect with me like that before.” Falman’s eyes looked almost glassy as he stared at Buck in awe. “You looked at me, you asked for my name, and then you smiled and called me Eddie and—” Falman cut himself off with a deep breath, an open grin so wide it nearly split his face.
Buck...had no idea what he was talking about. Buck couldn’t think of a single instance he’d called Falman ‘Eddie’ over the last few weeks he’d been working with the 118’s A-shift. And Bobby had introduced him to the whole team during his first shirt, Buck had never needed to ask for his name.
“Can you, uh, remind me about that day?” Buck asked hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t set Falman off. “I’d love to hear about it from your point of view.”
Falman lit up, looking even more excited if that were even possible.
“It feels like just yesterday sometimes,” Falman said wistfully, never breaking eye contact with Buck. It was going to be really hard to distract Falman if he never stopped looking at Buck.
“I was driving to work, it was a really terrible job at a local grocery store, but I needed the money, y’know? And as I was driving through an intersection, a car ran a red light and plowed right into me. I couldn’t get out because the door was damaged, but then you were there.” Falman’s face had adopted that awestruck look again and Buck did his best to appear interested in the story rather than let on how unsettled he was by the blatant hero worship vibes he was getting.
No, this wasn’t hero worship. This was obsession.
“You saw how scared I was and you calmed me down. You asked me my name, and when I answered you smiled like it was the greatest name you’d ever heard!” Falman bounced a bit from where he was crouched in front of Buck.
...Buck remembered this.
It had been over a year ago, just a couple weeks into Eddie’s tenure at the 118. They’d arrived on the site of a car accident, and it was clear the at-fault driver was under the influence and injured. Chimney and Hen had prioritized the at-fault driver who was in far worse shape while Buck and Eddie worked to extract Falman.
Eddie had handled the jaws of life while Buck worked to calm down a panicking Falman. As much as Buck enjoyed doing the badass parts of being a firefighter, he had to admit he liked the human side as well where he could calm someone down during the scariest moment of their life.
Buck had asked Falman for his name, and he’d replied with Edward. Buck remembered grinning unrepentantly because he was still joshing Eddie about not having a firehouse nickname, and while he’d learned by then that his first name was Edmundo, he was still having fun coming up with alternative full names for Eddie.
So Buck had called Edward ‘Eddie’, exchanging an amused glance with Eddie, who had rolled his eyes fondly and continued working.
And Edward Falman had looked at him like he’d hung the damn moon.
At the time Buck thought nothing of it; he was used to the people he saved looking at him in awe. Not to sound vain or anything, but it was a natural reaction to being rescued.
But now...
“—signed up for the Fire Academy that afternoon,” Falman was saying as Buck tuned back into the story. “I had to, I had to be a firefighter just like you. And sure, I knew it would be a longshot to get stationed where you are, but I figured if I was good enough, they’d take my opinion into account when I graduated.”
And they had...Falman was a good firefighter, and from what Buck knew, he’d been assigned to B-shift immediately following graduation a couple months ago. But Buck hadn’t actually worked with the man until his temporary assignment to A-shift.
“And then we got assigned to the same shift and we could be together all the time! Finally, I could be reunited with my best friend!” Falman bounced again, crouching closer, and still the broken bottle neck was pointed in his direction. “It’s been amazing spending so much time together.”
Except Buck and Falman hadn’t hung out at all since his assignment to A-shift. Buck barely noticed a difference with how quiet the man usually was.
...But Falman had been there. All the time. He always seemed to be in the locker room at the same time, or sitting nearby while Buck played video games, or sitting next to Buck during family dinners. He was a spare body that Buck didn’t acknowledge while engrossed in conversation with Bobby, Chim, Hen, or…Eddie.
Had Falman seriously delusioned himself into thinking that Buck had been talking to him every time Buck spoke to Eddie? It made sense, to a point. It helped explain why Falman was so devoted to the idea of being Buck’s best friend. He thought he and Buck’s actual best friend Eddie were one and the same.
The lock on his door jiggled suddenly and the door knob turned a moment later, and Buck was struck with such a strong sense of deja vu—
“Hey, Buck, we need to talk—”
The universe had a cruel sense of humor. Clue number one that this person belonged: he announced himself after entering the apartment.
Before Buck could shout a warning, Falman lunged at Buck, trapping him against the couch and holding the bottle shard to his neck.
The movement drew the attention of the newcomer and Buck heard his sharp intake of breath as he took in the scene before him.
“Buck—” Eddie breathed.
“No one invited you here, imposter,” Falman hissed. “Buck is my friend, you can’t have him.”
Buck exchanged a wild look of panic with Eddie, a plea for help with no idea of how he could be helped out of this. Buck almost wished Eddie had seen them and bolted before Falman had noticed his appearance, but it was too late for that now.
Almost as if Eddie had read his mind, Eddie took a step back towards the apartment door, but Falman hollered a sharp, “Don’t! Move and you’ll never get Buck!”
Eddie froze, and Buck fought against a reflexive nervous swallow to avoid pressing against the sharp edge of broken glass.
“Buck has duct tape in his cleaning cupboard, grab it and come over here,” Falman ordered. Buck whined, trying not to think about how Falman had such in depth knowledge about his apartment and where everything was.
Eddie followed the instructions slowly, disappearing behind the kitchen island for a moment and knocking over what sounded like some cleaning supplies in his search for the tape.
“Hurry up!” Falman snapped, shifting his weight so he was completely straddling Buck on the couch. The back of Buck’s neck dug uncomfortably into the couch arm while the front contended with the bottle shard. Falman’s other hand played with the collar of Buck's shirt—not his shirt, Falman’s shirt—absently and Buck tried to think of anything but the sensation of Falman’s fingertips against his bare skin.
Eddie returned from the kitchen, holding the roll of duct tape and watching Buck with an expressionless look. “You need to let Buck go, Falman,” he said, voice somehow even and strong. Buck thought his voice was a bit too loud; Falman was already agitated and he didn’t think riling him up even more would make matters any better.
“Sit in that chair,” Falman said, jutting his chin in the direction of the nearest dining room chair. Eddie did as instructed, gaze never leaving Buck as he sat with the duct tape in hand.
Falman slid off the couch, but before Buck could relax he found himself hauled up by the back of his shirt, bottle neck still resting dangerously in front of his neck.
“Buck, I need you to tie up the imposter,” Falman said, giving the small of his back a jab with his knuckles.
Buck blanched, but as he locked eyes with Eddie, Eddie gave him a small near imperceptible nod. Feeling both sick to his stomach in horror and emboldened by Eddie’s go ahead, Buck took the tape from Eddie and began unpeeling the edge.
“Start with the wrists,” Falman ordered, and Buck followed his instructions with shaking hands, starting with taping the wrists to the armrests and then moving to tape his torso when told to.
Finally, he was told to place a strip of tape over Eddie’s mouth. Buck laid the tape over Eddie’s lips as gently as he could, using the movement to cradle his jaw in both hands. He swiped his thumbs over the edge of the tape and held on, eyes locked with Eddie’s as he felt tears burn lines down his own face. As if in response, a tear beaded and fell from one of Eddie’s eyes and Buck caught it with his thumb and swiped it away—
Falman yanked Buck away hard and Buck stumbled until the back of his knees hit the couch. As he fell, he felt a sharp slice against his neck and his hand flew to the spot. The wound felt shallow but Buck’s fingers slipped against the blood oozing from it as he scrambled to put pressure on it.
Eddie let out a muffled yell as Buck fell onto the couch, and Falman shrieked when he spotted the blood.
“NO!” he cried, grabbing one of the abandoned towels from the beer spill. “No, look what you made me do!” He shoved the soiled towel against Buck’s neck and shot Eddie a venomous glare. “This is why you shouldn’t be around him, this is why it should just be Buck and me!”
Buck tried to take the towel from Falman but Falman seemed insistent on doing the job himself. Buck’s neck felt stiff, forced to exert pressure against Falman’s hand and the towel lest he be pushed into the sharp edge of glass on the other side of his neck.
Falman settled onto his lap again, straddling his thighs as he held Buck in place with his sick caress.
“I can hold the towel, Falman—”
“NO!” Falman’s face was only inches from his own and spittle from the force of his shout sprayed across Buck’s face.
“Eddie! Eddie, I’m sorry,” Buck babbled, blood thundering in his ears at the wild look in Falman’s eyes. “Eddie, I can hold the towel, please!”
“I want to help you,” Falman said, anger dropping in less than a second. His gaze turned soft. “I didn’t mean to do this, I’m sorry. You got hurt because of him.”
“It’s okay, it was an accident,” Buck said. Instinctively his eyes sought out Eddie’s—
“Don’t look at him!”
Buck brought his eyes back to Falman with a sharp gasp. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I just—” Buck used every ounce of willpower he possessed to avoid looking at Eddie again. “Maybe you and I can go back to your place? We can leave Eddie here—”
“He’s not Eddie!” Falman yelled.
“We can leave Diaz here!” Buck backpedalled quickly. “Then it would just be you and me again.”
Falman considered his words, sending a glare back towards Eddie in the process. “He’ll just come between us again. I can’t let him do that, you’re my best friend—”
“He won’t!” Buck yelled, desperate to get Falman’s attention off Eddie. “He wouldn’t do that. He—he knows you’re my best friend, okay, Eddie?”
Falman shook his head, gaze dropping to the tape roll still in Buck’s hands. “No. No no no, he’s still got you confused. But that’s okay, I can just remove him and then it’ll just be you and me.”
Falman dropped the towel to pluck the duct tape from Buck’s grasp, and Buck promptly grabbed the towel to reapply pressure. He did not like the feel of however much blood had just flowed down his neck when the towel had been removed.
Distracted by the possibility of bleeding out, Buck didn’t notice when Falman began wrapping the duct tape around Buck’s free hand until he yanked the towel hand away to restrain it next to the taped wrist. Fuck fuck fuck fuck—
“I don’t want to do this,” Falman said, moving to get off of Buck’s lap. The bottle shard went with him and Buck would have breathed a sigh of relief if not for the fact that his neck was still bleeding. He awkwardly held the towel to his neck with his bound hands, hating the fact that while he was no longer being held at bottle-point, he was still restricted by the need to stem the blood flow from his neck.
Falman stepped towards Eddie and Buck’s heart stopped.
“NO! Fal—Eddie, you can’t hurt him!”
“He’s always gonna come between us, Buck,” Falman said dispassionately, raising the bottle shard in Eddie’s direction.
Eddie’s eyes widened in fear, gaze darting between Buck and Falman. Buck tried to stand to get in between them but promptly lost his balance; he’d lost too much blood, he wouldn’t get between them in time—
“EDDIE, I WILL NEVER BE YOUR FRIEND IF YOU HURT HIM!”
Falman paused, turning a betrayed look on Buck. Buck’s vision swam as he fought to stay conscious. If he passed out, Eddie was as good as dead—
“But Buck, you’re my best friend. You’ll always be my friend.”
“I could never be friends with someone who hurts other people,” Buck said. His gaze bored into Falman’s eyes, desperate for him to listen, to back down. “You know that. You know me, right?”
“I know you, Buck,” Falman nodded, sounding reverent. Buck swallowed back bile.
“That’s right, Eddie. You know me. So you know that no matter what, I would never forgive someone for hurting another person. No matter what Ed—no matter what Diaz has done, I could never be your friend if you hurt him.”
Falman considered his words, looking horribly undecided. Buck held his breath.
Finally, Falman’s shoulders sagged, and Buck sighed in relief. He’d gotten through to him—
“No, you’ll forgive me, Buck,” Falman whispered.
Buck’s breath caught in his throat.
No—
“Best friends always forgive each other, no matter what.”
NO—!
Falman raised the bottle shard again and Buck didn’t think. He launched himself at Falman and collided with the man, knocking the both of them to the ground. Eddie screamed behind the tape as Buck struggled with Falman. He attempted to keep Falman pinned to the floor with his larger body mass, but he was hampered by his bound wrists and Falman quickly scrambled out from underneath him.
At least Falman had dropped the bottle neck in the struggle, but Buck’s relief was short-lived when Falman maneuvered himself on top of Buck’s back. His knee dug into Buck’s back and both hands flew to his neck to pin him down.
Unfortunately, Falman was no longer making any effort to stem the blood flow, and the burst of energy Buck had used in tackling him had zapped him of any strength he had left. Buck glanced up at Eddie through lidded eyes, darkness swarming the edge of his vision. Eddie looked terrified...
He couldn’t pass out, Eddie would die...
A loud bang echoed from behind him.
He couldn’t pass out...
“LAPD!”
Buck blinked, but his vision only grew darker.
He couldn’t pass out, Eddie would die...
“Hands where I can see them, now!”
The weight disappeared off his back.
He couldn’t pass out...
“Buck!”
There were hands on his neck again. Buck couldn’t help it; his eyes slid closed.
Eddie would die...
“Buck, c’mon, stay with me!”
He...couldn’t...
“Buck!”
Eddie…
When Buck woke up, he wasn’t sure if it was because he was aware and conscious enough to notice or if it was simply the frequency of which he woke up there, but he was immediately aware that he was in a hospital bed.
It was probably a combination of both.
Buck opened his eyes, wincing as the bright light aggravated his already pounding headache. He tried to assess the rest of his body, but his head seemed to be the most pressing issue, other than a decent case of lethargy and a low but insistent pain in his neck where the bottle had sliced into.
Buck tried to raise his right hand to investigate his neck but an IV line pulled at him and he settled the hand back on the bed, not wanting to mess with it and cause more bleeding.
He tried to raise his left hand and found it covered by a heavy weight.
Tensing, Buck rolled his head slightly to look at what was restraining it, wincing as it pulled on the bandage on his neck, and found a mess of brown hair pressed against the sheets. Buck relaxed, identifying the head as Eddie’s, with his upper body curled around Buck’s arm as he slept.
Buck was marginally reassured that Eddie was sitting—sleeping—next to his hospital bed rather than lying in one himself, but he hoped that meant Eddie hadn’t been injured in the first place rather than the man having been discharged already. He appeared to be wearing the same clothes though, that had to be a good sign—
“It’s good to see you awake, Buckaroo.”
Buck’s gaze was drawn away from Eddie as Athena stepped into the room; she was in full uniform, but Buck wasn’t sure if that meant she was still on shift or if she’d stopped by the hospital immediately after. Or before.
“I’d say it’s good to be awake, but my head is killing me,” Buck said, quirking his lips. Athena gave him a disapproving glare that was also heavy with concern, warning him that it was too soon to be joking about matters.
“That’d be the blood loss,” Athena said wryly, getting closer to the bed. She held out something towards Buck. “I figured you might want this back.”
It was Buck’s phone. Buck remembered Falman snatching the phone out of his hands and swallowed thickly at the memory.
“You might be interested to know that Falman admitted to messing with yours and Eddie’s phone contacts,” Athena said, expression both grave and apologetic. “You two might want to go through and make sure nothing else is out of place but I think the only contact affected was Eddie’s and vice versa.”
The news didn’t come as a surprise to Buck. He knew something must have been done to his phone for Falman to think Buck had invited him over—
His phone had gone missing the day before. Buck knew he hadn’t left it near the game console. Buck groaned, raising a hand to his face. Falman must have seen him use his passcode at some point.
Eddie’s too; his phone had disappeared the same shift. Suddenly the refrigerator placement was no longer hilarious; Falman must have read about it in their message history.
“You alright, Buckaroo? Want me to call the nurse?”
“‘M fine,” Buck mumbled, dropping his hand to his lap. “Just thinking about how things are starting to make more sense from the last few days.”
Athena hummed, thankfully unwilling to pry at the moment. “I’m afraid it’ll probably get worse once it all airs out, but you might feel better once there are no surprises left.”
Buck sighed. Athena was probably right, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to it. Buck eyed Athena’s uniform; he’d probably need to make a statement.
“I can do that now, if you’d like,” Athena said when he asked. “Eddie gave his earlier while you were asleep.”
Asleep. It was a better word than unconscious.
“How long was I out?”
“Not too long,” Athena answered, moving to take the vacant chair next to his bed. “We got to your apartment last night; it’s nearly noon now.”
“You were there?” Buck couldn’t remember much of what happened after lunging at Falman.
Athena nodded, face settling into a grimace. “You gave us quite the scare, Buckaroo.”
Buck swallowed, looking down at his hands. He wondered how much of this whole thing could’ve been avoided if he’d noticed Falman’s obsessive tendencies earlier.
“Don’t do that, Buck,” Athena said, squeezing his arm. Buck reluctantly brought his gaze up to meet hers. “What Falman did to you wasn’t your fault.”
“Eddie could’ve died,” Buck whispered.
“But he didn’t, thanks to you.”
“I’m fine, Buck.”
Buck jumped, eyes darting to Eddie on his other side. His hair was pressed on one side where he’d been laying on it for however long he’d been out. Eddie was looking at him like he was afraid Buck would disappear before his eyes, like Buck had been the one Falman had been aiming the bottle neck at.
Okay.
Well.
Fine, technically the bottle neck had been aimed at Buck for the majority of the encounter, and Buck was the one lying in a hospital bed while Eddie looked completely unharmed.
But still.
“You’re okay?” Buck asked, needing to be sure. Eddie was wearing a lot of clothes that could be covering injuries, who knew what he could be hiding under there—
Heat rushed to Buck’s face. Totally an inappropriate time to mentally undress your best friend, Buck—
Buck barely heard Athena murmur something about coming back for his statement later as Eddie’s hand rushed to his forehead with a concerned furrow in his brow.
“I’m fine, I’m more worried about the one of us who’s admitted to the hospital,” Eddie said wryly, hand sliding to cup Buck’s cheek when he was satisfied with whatever he’d felt on his forehead.
Buck wondered idly if Eddie would mistake him for having a fever with how hard he was blushing. He and Eddie had always been touchy-feely before, but this...this was something different. This was intimate.
Buck flashed back to the moment in his apartment when he’d held Eddie’s cheeks the same way Eddie was holding his now. Eddie’s thumb absently swiped against his cheek and Buck flinched, falling farther into the memory than he wanted to.
Eddie’s hand abruptly retreated and Buck lamented the loss immediately.
“I’m sorry—”
“Shit, Eds, no—”
“I shouldn’t have—”
Buck grabbed Eddie’s hand and squeezed, halting whatever words Eddie would’ve continued to babble. Eddie’s mouth clicked shut as he stared back at him with wide eyes.
“I didn’t mind,” Buck whispered. “I just...God, Eds, I’m so sorry. I fucking gagged you, I—”
“Hey...” Eddie’s face softened, turning his hand in Buck’s so he could lace their fingers together. Buck squeezed again, latching onto the contact like he’d never feel comforted again if he let go. “I told you to, it’s okay. I knew help was on the way.”
“How—?”
“I called 9-1-1,” Eddie explained. “When I was getting the tape from the kitchen, I called 9-1-1 and put them on speaker.”
Buck blinked, remembering how Eddie had taken his time, disappeared behind the kitchen island, and then raised his voice to demand Falman let Buck go.
“You...you’re fucking incredible, you know that?” Buck said, awed at how the man in front of him could keep such a level head in the face of danger. Sure, they both did it every day with their job, but this...Buck had nearly lost his mind when Eddie was in danger.
Eddie’s lips quirked into a small smile. “You’re the one who saved my life, risking yours in the process.” The smile became a bit more consternated as he finished the sentence.
“Worth it,” Buck muttered, dropping his gaze to their threaded hands. There were emotions pushing at the back of his throat, begging to spill out into words, but Buck couldn’t quite figure out how to string everything together. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, “So Christopher was never sick? He’s okay?”
Eddie let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment Buck wondered if he thought different words were going to come out, too.
“Is that what he told you?” Eddie asked, tone implying he didn’t actually expect Buck to answer.
“I got a message from you—er, Falman—saying Chris was sick when you picked him up from school, so we couldn’t have movie night,” Buck explained. He chanced a look up at Eddie again; Eddie was watching him with a guilty look. “I offered to bring soup, but—”
“Shit, Buck—” Eddie let out an exhale, running his free hand through his hair. “I—I was mad at you because you—Falman—cancelled on us at the last minute. He said...” Eddie paused, seemingly unable to get the words out.
“What’d he say?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Eddie—”
“It wasn’t you, it doesn’t matter.”
“Eds, please.”
Eddie sighed but couldn’t look at him in the eyes when he whispered, “He said ‘I have better things to do than spend my time with a needy kid.’”
A cold pit settled in Buck’s gut, torn between the horror of anyone saying such a thing to Eddie and the betrayal of Eddie believing Buck would ever say such a thing to him.
“I shouldn’t—I should’ve known it wasn’t you,” Eddie said, as if he could read Buck’s mind. He could read everything else about Buck, it truly wouldn’t surprise him at this point. “But the things he said, it—it played right into my insecurities about—”
“About what? Me?” Buck snapped. Eddie’s face warped into heavy guilt and suddenly Buck couldn’t look at him anymore. “You still...you still blame me for the lawsuit—”
“Buck, no—”
“You really think I’d leave you? Leave Chris? Just like that?” Buck asked, acid searing the back of his throat. “I mean, fuck, Eddie...that’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for me to fuck out of your life—”
“Buck—”
“—and you can’t get it through your head that all I’ve ever wanted was to come back to you. To be with you.” Buck paused, chest heaving. He felt light-headed but he was pretty sure that was just the after-effects of blood loss. “Being away from you killed me, why would you ever think I’d choose that willingly?”
Eddie let out a rough exhale. “I’m...I’m still working on it. With Frank. My issues with people leaving.” He paused, scrubbing at his face with his free hand, and Buck realized the other hand was still joined with his. Selfishly, he couldn’t find it within himself to let go.
“And Buck...I reacted badly at first, I know I did. But I still knew something was wrong. That’s why I came over. I promised you we’d talk through our issues from now on—”
“And you did,” Buck confirmed quietly, squeezing his hand.
It still rankled, that Eddie could think for even a moment (a whole day even) that Buck would ever willingly leave his and Christopher’s life like that. But it was also true that Eddie kept his promise—their promise—to communicate when things got rough between them. That mattered.
Buck looked to their still intertwined hands, like they would hold the answers to where Buck and Eddie were supposed to go from here. Something had shifted in Buck’s apartment, in this hospital room, but Buck didn’t know what it could mean for them. He wanted...he wanted more with Eddie, and with how Eddie was acting with him right now, Buck could almost convince himself that Eddie wanted more, too.
But Buck had had his heart broken too many times. And if Eddie couldn’t trust that Buck would always stick by him before they tried being more than friends, what did that mean for the type of relationship Buck wanted with Eddie?
Their hands didn’t hold the answer Buck wanted, but as Eddie’s thumb brushed idly over his knuckles, Buck thought they held the answer he needed.
Even if neither of them were ready for it right now, maybe they would be in the future.
Buck finally brought his gaze back up to Eddie and found Eddie’s waiting for him. Eddie offered him a small smile and Buck returned it, giving his hand another squeeze.
So long as they stayed on the same path together, Buck didn’t think he’d mind waiting.