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It’s not until the party that Eddie notices something is wrong.
His eyes are the giveaway. A dead giveaway, if Eddie felt like making a pun. That’s the only way he can describe it, the look in Buck’s eyes. Dead.
Dead when he introduces Taylor to Ravi.
Dead when he presses a kiss to her forehead.
Dead when she hands him a wrapped gift.
Dead.
He doesn’t know how he’d missed it.
Buck is the most expressive person he’s ever met. His eyes give away his every thought, to Eddie, at least. To see him wear such an impassive expression is, frankly, terrifying. Almost as terrifying as the idea of confronting whatever’s wrong between them.
Between Buck and Taylor , Eddie tells himself. Between us , his traitorous brain whispers.
“Buck, can I talk to you?” Eddie asks. He hears the hesitancy in his own voice, hates himself for it.
Buck’s brow furrows, but he nods. He mechanically squeezes Taylor’s arm, then follows Eddie until they're standing several yards away from the rest of the party. He says nothing, just waits for Eddie to speak.
Eddie hates this part. He doesn’t want to talk about it, any of it, but Buck-
Something’s wrong , and Eddie hates himself for not knowing what it is. It’s his fault, after all. He feels like he’s cracking apart at the seams, and every time he looks at Buck it gets worse. So he’s stopped looking. Now, though, he looks. He doesn’t know what scares him more - all the things he sees, or everything that’s missing.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks finally. As if he doesn’t know the answer.
Buck shakes his head. “I’m fine,” he says, looking somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder.
“Are you?” Eddie asks softly.
It’s unfair, he knows it’s unfair. He’s told Buck the same exact lie a hundred times over. It’s his line, though, not Buck’s. Buck’s the guy that wears his heart on his sleeve. For Eddie, at least. He’s never known Buck to hide anything from him.
“What do you want me to say?” Buck asks. It’s not harsh, but Eddie almost wishes it was. Instead, it’s flat, tired.
“Just talk to me, please.”
Buck chuckles mirthlessly. “Oh, so we’re doing that now?”
Eddie feels a flash of anger and folds his arms. Buck holds up his hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry, I just… Eds, we haven’t talked in months, not really. And you want to now?”
Eddie swallows and looks away. I miss you , he thinks, but he can’t say it. “I’m sorry,” he says instead. He is. He means it. “Look, I just… I want you to be happy, okay? And, I don’t know, maybe I don’t have the right to say this, but you look miserable with her.”
Buck recoils. “This is about Taylor?” He shakes his head. “I know you don’t like her, but -”
“It’s not about that,” Eddie interrupts. “You look at her the same way you look at, I don’t know, a passing car. She’s there and then she’s not, and it doesn’t even matter unless you’re about to get run over.”
Buck stares. A muscle in his jaw ticks.
“That’s not the way you look at someone you love,” Eddie finishes softly.
“You know what, Eddie? You’re right. You don’t have the right. Talk to me about every fucking other thing you’ve been avoiding, and then you can talk to me about Taylor.” He turns on his heel and storms off, back to the party. Back to Taylor.
Eddie watches him as he goes. Watches the rigid line of his shoulder, the heaviness of his steps. Thinks about the blazing anger in eyes as he spit out those last words.
It’s better than the deadness he saw before. He hopes it means there’s still something left between them to salvage.
The thing that infuriates Buck, more than anything, is that Eddie’s right. Eddie’s been weird and distant and he still knows Buck well enough to see right through him. It makes him want to scream.
Because for all that Eddie apparently knows what Buck’s thinking, Buck has no idea what’s going through Eddie’s head these days. One second he’s fine, the next he looks like he’s about to break. Then Buck will blink, and it’s like nothing ever happened.
And he can’t - he wants to push, okay? But he can’t, because it’s pretty damn clear what will happen if he pushes too far.
Buck makes his way back to Taylor and tries not to think about how stiff he feels next to her. He tries not to notice the way the smile seems to slide off his face the second no one’s looking. He feels Eddie’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his head. He wants to scream.
“You okay?” Taylor asks.
Jesus, even she can see it. “Fine,” Buck says. He doesn’t even sound convincing to himself.
Taylor doesn’t ask again.
Eddie and Christopher leave not long after their conversation, and Buck can’t bring himself to sour anyone else’s mood by subjecting them to his own. He and Taylor leave, too.
She’s quiet. He’s quiet. He doesn’t really know what to do with it. He wants to ask her what’s wrong, but he also… doesn’t really want to know. He feels guilty for that.
“I think I’m just… gonna head home,” Taylor says when they get back to the loft.
He should ask her to stay. “Yeah, okay,” Buck says.
Taylor frowns. “Okay,” she echoes.
He can’t even bring himself to smile at her. That’s not the way you look at someone you love .
“I’ll just…” Taylor trails off and gestures vaguely.
“Taylor, wait,” Buck says. Sighs.
Taylor leans back into the passenger seat of the jeep. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.
“No,” Buck answers. “Or, not all of it, at least.”
Taylor just looks at him. Waits for him to continue. Like she doesn’t already know what he’s going to say. She probably doesn’t.
“Taylor, do you actually like me? Do you like being with me?”
Her mouth drops open. “Buck,” she says, almost derisively.
“I mean it, Taylor. Do I actually matter to you? Or am I just better than being alone.”
She chews on her thumbnail, a gesture he’s never seen before. They’ve been together for months and he’s never seen her bite her nails.
“Do you like me?” she asks finally.
Buck closes his eyes and tips his head back. “What are we doing, Taylor?”
“Seems like we’re breaking up,” she answers. Her voice is hard.
Buck wonders, if he knew her better, if he might hear some kind of hurt underlining her tone. He doesn’t, though. Know her better, that is.
“Yeah,” Buck says. There’s no anger, no sadness, no relief. His problems don’t begin or end with Taylor. She’s just one more thing that’s wrong.
“Goodbye, Buck,” Taylor says. She gets out of the jeep and walks away.
He doesn’t feel a damn thing.
Buck’s avoiding him. Obviously.
Eddie can’t even be mad at him for it. He’d been just as pissy when Buck suggested he was leading Ana on, after all. It’s only fair that Buck feels the same.
It grates on him, though, the way Buck won’t look at him. It feels too much like the aftermath of the tsunami, when Buck was suing the department and Eddie was fighting and Christopher was suffering. The reminder hurts.
And he knows - hell, they both know - things between them don’t work when they don’t talk. Buck’s always the one who pushes. Maybe it’s Eddie’s turn.
“Talk to me,” Eddie says after he manages to corner Buck in the fire station kitchen.
Buck scrubs the plate he’s holding harshly. “Nothing to talk about,” he grunts.
“I’m not sorry for what I said about Taylor,” Eddie says, folding his arms.
Buck snorts derisively. “No, of course you’re not. And you were right, obviously. When aren’t you?”
Eddie’s taken aback. “Does that mean-”
“Yeah, Eddie,” Buck interrupts, “I broke up with her. Congratu-fucking-lations.”
“Are you… okay?” Eddie ventures.
Buck slams a glass against the counter so hard it nearly shatters. “Fine. All alone again, just like the universe intends, I guess.”
“Buck you’re not-”
“Just leave it, Eddie, alright? I’m fine. I’m not going to go and get myself killed. Your backup plan is still intact,” Buck spits. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“This- this is about the will? That’s what you’re mad about?” Eddie splutters.
“Of course it’s about the will!” Buck throws his hands in the air. “You made me Christopher’s parent if you die . Well newsflash, Eddie, I don’t want you to fucking die!”
“Buck, I don’t-”
“No, you know what? I’m talking now. Do you understand what that did to me? Having a family… that’s all I’ve ever wanted. And you- you went and gave me one, but I have to lose you to get it! Do you know how fucked up that is?” Buck’s chest heaves, like he’s run a marathon.
“Jesus, Buck, I thought you understood,” Eddie says faintly.
“How am I supposed to understand, Eddie? You haven’t said a word to me that mattered since the day I brought you home.”
“When I got shot,” Eddie begins tremulously. His chest feels tight. He can’t talk about this. He has to talk about it. They’re fracturing apart and Eddie’s pretty sure if he doesn’t say it now he’s never going to get the chance again.
“Eddie,” Buck warns.
“When I got shot,” Eddie repeats, steadier this time, “the only thing I registered was the blood on your face. You were hurt and all I wanted was to get to you but I couldn’t make my fucking limbs work and I couldn’t understand why. I was terrified, Buck, not of losing my backup plan. I was terrified of losing you .”
“Eddie, I did almost lose you!” Buck exclaims, taking an aggressive step into Eddie’s personal space. “Your blood was in my mouth . I still taste it every time I look at you. I wake up everyday afraid that this is all some fucked up dream and that you’re still in the hospital, or worse, six feet under in a fucking coffin.”
“You think I don’t understand?” Eddie asks desperately. “I’m falling apart because I got shot in broad daylight and every time I close my eyes I see your face, covered in my blood and I don’t know what to do with it. Nothing works anymore and every day I’m a little closer to completely losing it.”
It’s honest, far too honest. Eddie’s breaths come fast and shallow. Too much. Too much .
“Eddie you don’t get it, okay? I might be your backup plan and maybe even your best friend, but you have no idea what you mean to me,” Buck says, folding his arms and looking away.
Buck’s the one who doesn’t fucking get it.
“You listen to me, Evan Buckley. You think I put you in my will as some kind of backup? No, I put you there because if I die, Chris only has one parent left and I refuse to let him lose you, too. I have been building a family with you since practically the day we met. I don’t know how to live without you anymore, and I don’t want to learn. So if you think that you’re not the most important thing in this world to me outside our son, you’re wrong.”
“Eddie…” Buck’s eyes are wide.
“I put you in my will because we’re already family, Evan. You don’t get to cheapen that.”
Eddie spins on his heel and leaves.
If you think that you’re not the most important thing in this world to me outside our son, you’re wrong.
Jesus. What is Buck supposed to do with that? Because it doesn’t mean… it can’t. Eddie had drawn the line in their relationship when he drew up the will.
Except to Eddie, apparently, he hadn’t.
He’s only been off-shift for an hour, and he needs time to process but he also just… needs to see Eddie.
That conversation had broken something loose in him. Something that feels monumental. Something he can’t name, not yet. Not until he knows that he and Eddie are going to be okay.
Fuck it. Buck grabs his keys. It’s Eddie. He’ll fight like hell before he lets him go.
He’s in Eddie’s driveway when his phone rings.
“Could you please just come home?” Eddie pleads. “Chris misses you and I- I fucking miss you and I know we’re not okay, but could you just-”
“Eddie,” Buck interrupts. “Open the door.”
There’s a rustling on the other end of the line, and then Eddie’s standing in front of him, phone still pressed to his ear.
“You’re here,” he whispers.
“I’m here,” Buck says.
“You’re always-” Eddie leans against the doorway and presses the hand that’s still holding his phone against his forehead.
“Eddie, I need-”
“I know,” Eddie cuts him off. If it were anyone else, Buck would bristle. Eddie, though - he probably does know what Buck was going to say. Even if Buck doesn’t. “Come inside?” Eddie asks.
Buck follows him wordlessly to the kitchen. There’s still tension in the air, still too much unsaid. It feels like they’ve reached a breaking point.
“You want a beer?” Eddie asks.
It’s tempting to say yes, but Buck doesn’t want to have something he can hide behind. He shakes his head.
“Yeah, me neither.” Eddie ducks his head and smiles. It’s a little thing, but it warms Buck. It’s an expression that says, we’re not okay yet, but we’re going to be .
Buck looks at the floor, then forces himself to look back up at Eddie. “Eds, we have to talk,” he says softly.
“We do,” Eddie agrees simply. “You want to say goodnight to Christopher first? He’s supposed to be asleep, but I’ve replaced the battery in his reading light twice this month already, so.”
Buck shakes his head, grinning. “That kid’s the best,” he says.
Eddie smiles and nods towards the hall. “Go on, then.”
For a split second, Buck is struck with the fear that Eddie is just giving him a chance to say goodbye. He swallows and remembers what Eddie told him.
We’re already family, Evan .
Buck tries to believe it.
He pushes Christopher’s door open and knocks softly on the frame, quiet, just in case he’s actually asleep.
Christopher’s head pops up from beneath the covers. “Dad, I-” he starts before seeing who it is and breaking into a grin. “Buck!” he exclaims.
“I heard you were supposed to be asleep, kiddo,” Buck says, unable to keep the smile off his face.
Christopher shrugs. “What Dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he says matter-of-factly.
Buck snickers. “Don’t let him hear you say that,” he replies. He shakes his head. “Anyway, I just wanted to say goodnight.”
“Will you be here in the morning?”
It’s a loaded question, even if Christopher doesn’t know it.
“I don’t know, buddy,” Buck says, trying to answer honestly. “If I am, though, I promise I won’t let your dad make breakfast.”
Christopher stares at him for a second too long before seemingly accepting his answer. “Okay,” he says. “Goodnight, Buck. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Buck says, “more than you can imagine.” He blinks back the tears that suddenly well and presses a kiss to Christopher’s hair. “Now get some sleep.” Buck looks pointedly at the book poking conspicuously out from underneath the covers.
Christopher giggles. “Fine,” he says, pulling it and the reading light out and placing them on his bedside table.
“Goodnight, kid.” Buck steps out of the room and quietly latches the door behind him.
Eddie is standing just outside, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life,” Eddie says softly, “but whatever it was, I’m damn glad I did it.”
Buck swallows harshly against the lump in his throat. “Eds, you know I- you have to know.”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods. He pushes himself off the wall. “Come on, Buck. Let’s talk.”
Buck follows him back into the kitchen. Would follow him anywhere. He’s known that for a long time. Longer than is probably reasonable.
“Tell me why you came here?” Eddie asks softly.
“Tell me why you called,” Buck counters.
“Please,” Eddie says, “Please, I-”
“We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months, Eds. I don’t want to do that with you. You’re too important.” Buck stares at his hands where they rest on the counter.
“I don’t want to do that with you, either.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the will?” Buck asks softly, looking up.
Eddie chews on his lip. “We’d known each other for, what, two years at that point?”
“Not even,” Buck says, shaking his head.
Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “Exactly. Not even two years, and I already knew - it felt like too much. Like if I told you, you’d see it all. I wasn’t ready.”
“And now?” Buck asks.
“Now I - Buck, I meant what I said before. I want you to know what you mean to me. I thought - when I told you about the will, I thought you understood.”
“Eddie, you- you and Christopher are everything to me. You know that, right? You have to know that.” Buck feels - desperate, almost. Like everything he’s been holding back is pouring out of him, and there’s no way to stem the flow.
“I think I’m starting to get it,” Eddie says.
“I didn’t, though,” Buck says, shaking his head. “When you told me, I thought - okay, yeah, that’s what I am to him. He needs me to stick around but not - I was the backup plan.”
Eddie frowns and places his hand on Buck’s wrist. “Buck,” he says softly.
Buck swallows. “And you, you were hurt,” he says. “So I tried to push it all down, the way you do. The hurt, the fear, all of it. To, I don’t know, show you that you made the right choice. But I-” Buck looks down as his eyes begin to sting. “I can’t do it, Eds. I can’t keep pretending to be okay.”
Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want to. I just… I don’t think I know how to stop.”
“Maybe we could learn together?” Buck asks tentatively.
“Together,” Eddie says, like he’s testing out the word. “Together sounds good.”
He laces his fingers with Buck’s and squeezes. Buck squeezes back.
Yeah, they’re going to be alright.
They talk late into the night. Not just about the shooting, not just about the will. They talk the way they used to, about everything, until Eddie’s throat is sore and Buck’s eyes are red and tired.
It’s difficult. It hurts. But it also feels like coming home, and Eddie’s never been so grateful for another person in his life.
He’s been holding in so much for so long. He hadn’t realized how exhausting it had become.
There’s one thing he still doesn’t say. He’s going to, though, just… not right now. Not when they’re overtired and wrung out from the emotion of the evening. But soon.
“Stay?” Eddie asks after a jaw-cracking yawn.
At some point they’d ended up on the couch, pressed together like the pages of a book. Buck shifts against him and drops his head to Eddie’s shoulder.
“Pretty sure I couldn’t make it back to the loft if I wanted to,” he admits.
“Come on,” Eddie says, smiling softly. “Don’t fall asleep here.” He stands and holds out his hand.
Buck’s brow furrows, even as he takes Eddie’s proffered hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. “Eds?”
“Unless you want to sleep on the couch?” Eddie teases.
Buck squeezes his hand. “I’d have to be a masochist.”
Eddie laces his fingers with Buck’s and leads him to the bedroom.
It’s hardly the first time they’ve shared a bed, but this feels different. Bigger. Like they’re on the verge of something momentous.
Eddie thinks maybe they are.
He rushes through changing and brushing his teeth, impatient to return to Buck’s side. It’s like the floodgates have opened. All the time avoiding Buck’s gaze, maintaining his distance to keep from falling apart - Eddie wants to make up for all of it. He tucks himself into bed feeling light, almost giddy, and waits.
And waits some more, because apparently Buck is taking his sweet time in the bathroom. Which is - fine, probably. But it makes Eddie nervous.
There’s a line they haven’t crossed yet. Won’t cross, not tonight at least. But Eddie was fairly certain they were on the same page about wanting to cross it at some point. Suddenly, though, he’s not so sure.
Maybe this is too much for Buck. Maybe it’s just too soon. Maybe after all they said tonight, he needs time to process alone. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Eddie gets out of bed and pads softly to the bathroom. He knocks lightly on the door.
“Buck?”
“I’m fine,” Buck sniffs, sounding all together not fine.
Eddie rests his forehead against the door. “Please don’t do that,” he says gently.
“I’m sorry, I just-” Eddie feels the door shift as Buck leans his own weight against it. “It’s stupid,” he says.
“Not if it’s bothering you,” Eddie replies. He closes his eyes.
Buck huffs a frustrated noise. “It’s just. This, Eds, what we’re doing? I want it to mean- but not tonight. I keep thinking that if I say the wrong thing, if I take too much, or- or not enough, I’m going to lose you all over again.” There’s a thunk against the door. “I told you. Stupid.”
Eddie straightens. “Buck, can you open the door, please?”
There’s a moment of shuffling, and then the door swings open, revealing Buck in all his beautiful, disheveled glory.
Eddie reaches out slowly, telegraphing his intentions, and takes Buck’s jaw in his hands. “You never lost me,” he says. “Okay? And you’re never going to. There is nothing, Buck, not a single thing you could do to push me away.” He strokes his thumb across Buck’s skin. “That thing you want? I want it, too. Tonight, though, I just want to be near you. But if you don’t want that, if you need time, that’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. Whatever you need.”
Buck’s hands fist in Eddie’s shirt. “I just need you,” he whispers.
“Okay,” Eddie smiles. “Then let’s go to bed.”
Distantly, Eddie thinks that this part should be scarier. The part where he slides between the sheets inches from his best friend, flush with the knowledge that they both want more. Maybe it would have been, before. Maybe that’s why he’d never allowed himself to go here. Now though, he’s not afraid. Lying next to Buck, he just feels safe.
Beneath the covers, Buck’s hand seeks out Eddies.
“Goodnight, Eds,” Buck says, squeezing his fingers.
“Goodnight, Evan,” Eddie replies, squeezing back.
Buck wakes with the first light of dawn, head pillowed on Eddie’s shoulder. Their legs are tangled together, and their joined hands rest on Eddie’s stomach.
I love you , Buck thinks, and for the first time in his entire life, the idea doesn’t terrify him.
He takes a moment to luxuriate in the feeling. The rhythmic rise and fall of Eddie’s chest. The sleep warmed sheets that pool around his waist. The sunlight that kisses his shoulders and dyes Eddie’s skin golden. The love that seems to permeate every inch of his being.
Everything feels right, in a way it never has before.
Buck nuzzles against Eddie’s neck and breathes, allowing his eyes to slip closed.
He drifts, right up until he feels Eddie begin to stir beneath him. Buck opens his eyes and watches as he slowly blinks himself awake.
“G’morning,” Eddie says, sleep rough and fond.
“Good morning,” Buck replies. He must look like a lovesick fool, the way he allows his gaze to linger, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Eddie cards the fingers of his free hand lazily through Buck’s hair. “Got anywhere you need to be?” He asks, soft, almost teasing.
“Nowhere in the entire world I’d rather be than right here,” Buck answers. It’s too earnest, probably, but the smile it earns him is worth it.
I love you , he thinks again.
“Good,” Eddie says.
He lets go of Buck’s hand in favor of turning to face him, shifting Buck so that his head rests on Eddie’s bicep. His hand drifts to Buck’s rib cage, stroking lightly at the sensitive skin he finds.
Buck drags his fingertips gently across Eddie’s jaw. “Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi,” Eddie whispers. Their noses brush.
Buck was so sure, just a few days ago, that nothing would ever happen between him and Eddie. That nothing could ever happen. So sure that any chance he’d ever had was lost beneath firetrucks and forty feet of mud and the waves of a tsunami and Eddie’s body on hot blood-slick pavement. So sure that if he ever gathered the courage to kiss Eddie, it would be a kiss that cost him everything.
Now, though, they feel like an inevitability. Like everything the universe threw at them was leading them here, shaping them into the people they needed to be for this . It feels like fate.
“What are you thinking?” Eddie murmurs.
Buck takes a breath and thinks that maybe, it’s his turn to be brave. Although, he supposes, it doesn’t feel much like bravery when you’re not scared anymore.
“I’m thinking that I’d really like to kiss you,” Buck grins.
“I think I’d really like it if you did,” Eddie replies.
“Well okay then,” Buck whispers. He tilts his head just so, brushing his lips across Eddie’s in the sweetest, gentlest, and last first kiss he’ll ever have.
Eddie’s hand drifts up to Buck’s neck, cupping it and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Their lips slide together, and Buck thinks that this, right here, makes it all worth it.
They only break apart at the sound of shuffling from Christopher’s room.
“I promised Chris I wouldn’t let you make breakfast if I was still here,” Buck says, smiling so wide it hurts.
Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s. “Then I guess you’ve got a promise to keep,” he says.
“I guess I do.” And maybe a few more to make.