Archive of Our Own

“Okay, look," Chimney says, the words reverberating through their empty fire house. "You are one of my dearest friends. I would die for you. I have walked into fire for you. But, and please note that I’m saying this with all the love, patience, and wisdom in the world: Fuck. No.”

Buck fixes him with a look, unimpressed over the locker room benches.

“Dude.”

Chimney shrugs, unapologetic, and keeps folding up the two sets of uniform he's ruined today: one soaking wet and vaguely pungent, the other sooty and grimey all over in a way that makes even Buck wince. But he soldiers on.

“It’s my estranged sister, finally taking life by the reins and starting over. We should celebrate." He tries for Chimney's empathetic side, hoping that the rebar didn't mess it up too much. If it ever existed in the first place.

Apparently, it didn’t.

“I hear that, and I’m sure she’s great and I can’t wait to meet her at a more opportune time. But," Chim pauses while zipping up his duffel to make sure Buck gets the severity of his next statement. "I am not helping move her furniture.”

Buck makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat, motivation quickly running dry. It’s been a long shift trying to convince his coworkers to help out, and Chimney, most of all, was proving to be a tough nut to crack.

Eddie agreed immediately, bless his heart, and Hen wanted to come, but already had other arrangements. Buck had been too scared to ask Bobby. So Chimney was kind of his last bet to make the event less of a lonely affair.

“She doesn’t know anybody in LA besides me, and she could really use some friends,” says Buck, a touch manic. Not completely true, because there’s Josh and Abby’s next door neighbor and a few other acquaintances, but Chimney doesn’t have to know that. “Please?”

Chim sighs. “And in honor of you inevitably bringing another person into this convoluted first responder friend group spanning half the city that we’ve got going, I will be spending my day off with people who are not in it.”

“You don’t have other friends,” Buck frowns.

Chimney ignores him, swinging the bag over his shoulder, car keys in hand and shifting foot to foot, impatient.

“There’ll be pizza,” Buck attempts, a final plea, but a huge part of him knows it's futile. Chimney's got one metaphorical foot out the door, and his brain is obviously already at home, only still paying any attention to Buck because he's a head taller and no stranger to intimidation tactics.

“And my thing will have alcohol,” Chimney says, and Buck, knowing when the battle's been lost, gives up. “I’m sure you and Eddie will do fine. Cheers."

With that, he claps Buck on the back of the shoulder, and stalks off out of the station.

Buck laments briefly, seeing him out with overwhelming disappointment he’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep off. So far, his attempts to bring Maddie into their little family have all been nerfed, but a battle lost doesn’t mean forfeiting the whole war. Buck’s nothing if not persistent.

At least he’ll have Eddie by his side. Hell, he’s new to town too. Maybe Maddie and him will get along.

Buck comes to regret that line of thinking.

“He is so cute,” Maddie comments slyly the second Eddie leaves the room.

She's been practically drooling over him ever since they showed up on her doorstep, truck full of furniture in tow. Buck asked Eddie to be on his best behavior, mostly aiming against embarrassing work stories, but he couldn’t really predict him smirking that damned charming smile of his and shaking Maddie’s hand like a proper gentleman, making her jaw drop open and eyebrows lift somewhere into her hairline.

He isn’t sure if he should actually be concerned by her little crush, or if she's just in awe with the general state of attractiveness of people in this town.

Because Buck had the same exact dilemma when he came. It was a bit like putting a kid in a candy store. But he's glad he’s over that particular phase.

“Yeah, uh. He gets that a lot. You should meet his kid, though,” Buck replies to Maddie's quip, unable to keep the fond smile off his face at the very mention of Chris.

Eddie might be cute, but Chris has Buck's entire heart in his tiny little hands. Buck may love kids, but after only a few meetings he’s firmly convinced that Chris is the best one. In the world.

Maddie gasps, quietly so as to not let Eddie hear, eyes wide at the revelation. “Wait, he has a kid?”

She's out the door less than a second later, probably off to interrogate him for pictures, which Eddie will be all too happy to provide, Buck’s sure. He’s seen the whole photo gallery thricefold, and all of it is Chris.

He laughs softly at Maddie's apparent infatuation. He remembers very well the impression Eddie first made on him– tall, dark and handsome, confident bordering on cocky, tank tops that stretched a little too low, exposed a little too much skin, smart and competent and so, so attractive.

Besides the jealousy and anger, there was an inherent appreciation of the human form that Eddie awoke in him. And it manifested as gleaming hot metal burning a hole in Buck's belly. To put it in the words of his dear friends: Eddie is a beautiful man. And Buck can appreciate it. Even though he likes girls.

He shakes his head, dispelling the images of Eddie, of Eddie’s hair flopping into his eyes after a workout, of how wide his smile is when he talks about Chris, of how adorably soft he looks, woken up by the station alarm, and heads on over to the living room. The new couch is planted firmly in the middle of it, albeit haphazardly, surrounded by boxes and a little askew.

What stops him in his tracks, though, is the sight of Maddie and Eddie on it, together, talking in hushed tones and grinning wildly. They’re all up in each other’s space, too close for comfort, too familiar, and the picture should make Buck dance and sing with happiness. But it doesn’t, for whatever reason.

Neither of them notice Buck standing there, on the doorstep, unsure if he should interrupt. And the uncertainty about Maddie's comments is suddenly very justified, coming back in full swing, because this is looking anything but casual.

They're wrapped up in each other, like they’ve been friends for years, not mere hours. Buck tells himself he's jealous because it’s never been that easy for him, because he was stupid and wasted precious time opposing Eddie, when they work so much better on the same team. But then Maddie says something that makes Eddie throw his head back laughing, and when he looks back down at her, there's something in his expression that makes Buck uncomfortable, a sick, acidic feeling that spreads all through him, making him itch to break them up.

He doesn't examine the feeling further, walking in loudly before he can think better of it and demanding a slice of pizza, wearing a too-loud smile that feels fake even to him.

Maddie keeps talking about Eddie, and Buck learns to live with it.

On the outside.

On the inside, he feels terrible, possessive and jerkish in a way he’s never felt before, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. Doesn’t know how to package it up in a way that’s palatable, either to him or to other people.

He doesn’t have a problem with Maddie and Eddie being friends– It’s exactly what he hoped to achieve, introducing them. It’s not even that he doesn’t want Maddie to date– as long as it’s not another Doug case, Buck would be happy with a shovel talk and a background check from Athena.

But something about the thought of her having a crush on Eddie. Something about them potentially dating. Maddie meeting Christopher and falling in love and suddenly being the one stepping in when Isabel or Pepa or Carla can’t, being the one Eddie takes out to breakfast post-shift, being Eddie’s partner and moving in and starting over with a new family. It’d be great. Buck would be so happy for her, for them, because it’s what they both deserve, except something about the whole notion doesn’t sit right with him.

He hopes the feeling will go away on its own. Either his feelings of discomfort or Maddie’s amicable feelings towards Eddie. Whichever one.

And then one shift after Buck has a day off and Eddie doesn’t, Eddie starts avoiding him.

That much is apparent, because you don’t spend 24 hours riding around in a tightly confined truck with someone without making it extremely obvious that you’re ignoring them. And Eddie is ignoring him, conveniently exiting rooms when Buck enters, ducking from any conversation Buck tries to strike up, straight-up not answering his questions with more than a hum or a headshake.

Hen and Chim and even Bobby throw concerned looks at them, though they’re mostly pointed at Buck, afraid that he’s messing something up again. But it’s not his fault this time. He swears.

It becomes obvious why when Maddie calls him up later that night, screaming about “Great news,” and “Everything’s coming up Madeline.” Buck smiles involuntarily at her excitement, glad that his sister is allowing herself to be happy, no matter how small of an occurrence caused it.

She’s spent too long miserable not to deserve a little sunshine in her life, and Buck swore that he’d always be right here to support her. She was a little muted when she first showed up, afraid to believe that she’s really free, but what with moving into her new place and getting a new job, she seems ready to really start a new chapter in her life. Maddie 2.0.

And then she says “I think I’m going on a date with Eddie!” and Buck’s world screeches to a halt.

So.

Not so small of an occurrence after all.

“You think?” he squeezes out, just to confirm, just to make sure his ears aren't deceiving him with possibly the worst news he could've gotten, sans anyone dying. His brand new loft feels empty around him, suddenly, cold and unwelcoming and there’s an urge in him to go out and run and run until he can’t feel his legs, even though he was dead tired on his feet just a second before.

“Okay,” she says, and Buck can hear her rolling her eyes, “I know we're going on a date. I… might’ve asked him out.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot up, heart stammering in his chest. “You might have?”

“Shut up, Buck.”

She sounds giddy, though, young, like she used to sound when they were kids. When, much like now, she’d bother Buck with all the details of her latest crush. And a huge part of him is overjoyed to recognize the tone.

The smaller, more bitter part of him, wonders.

“But really, why Eddie?” He wrinkles his nose, to calm the erratic beating of his heart. Eddie’s just– no. Not because Eddie isn’t good enough for her– Eddie’s great. Eddie is amazing, drop-dead gorgeous, such a good dad, will undoubtedly treat her right. But, like– No. No, right? It was supposed to be just a little crush on her part. Wishful thinking. Right? “My friend Eddie? That Eddie?”

“Yes, Buck. That Eddie,” Maddie says, sighing wistfully. ''What can I say, he’s cute. I couldn't stop thinking about him, as you may know, so I went for it. And he got really flustered when I asked, he almost–”

“Do not need to know the details, Mads.” Buck stops her, blush creeping onto his ears, the knowledge feeling forbidden in some ways. Maddie laughs at him. “When did you even see Eddie to ask him out?"

For the first time the entire call, there’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Maddie…”

“Shut up, okay!” she says. “It was your fault for telling me how much he loves his post-shift Starbucks.”

Buck gasps, affronted.

“Maddie! What the hell, that’s our spot. Taking advantage of my day off as well?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she doesn’t sound sorry. “I’m finding out there’s quite a criminal mastermind hiding behind my docile and lovely behavior.”

“Ha-ha,” Buck deadpans, but his thoughts are already in another place entirely.

She keeps going, talking about what she’s going to wear to the date, and how excited she is about getting back into the game, and how she can’t wait for Eddie to call her, but Buck is far away. Because that possibility of Maddie and Eddie dating? Suddenly very imminent.

And they’re both such great people, there’s no way it won’t work out. Before Buck knows it, she’ll be a Buckley-Diaz, and he’ll be Chris’s uncle, and– that should make him happy, maybe.

He puts on his running shoes and is out of the door before Maddie’s done talking.

“My best friend and my sister!!”

Everyone at the station stares at Chimney’s outburst, way too loud over mid-shift lunch.

He looks around. “Ross? Friends? Anybody?” At everyone’s blank stares, he sighs. “I am wasted on you losers.”

Buck keeps munching on his piece of bread. He’s not really concerned with what other people think. He knows, objectively, that Maddie and Eddie dating isn’t all that weird. His own feelings on the matter are one thing, but outwardly he’ll stick to putting on a completely unconcerned front.

Besides, his mind is still reeling a little from best friend. It's a nicer thing to focus on than Eddie's announcement.

He’s not sure he’s ever had one of those before. Yeah, Hen and Chimney and lots of people have been his friends before, but Eddie…? He’s always felt like a little bit more. Buck’s not even sure the other man would agree with Chimney's assessment, and for all he knows they’ll go on ignoring it, but for now he lets something warm titter on his heart at the title.

Best friends. He can live with that. He will live with that.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Bobby comments diplomatically, smiling warmly at all three of them. “Please let Maddie know she’s free to come by the station at any time, we’d all love to meet her.”

Buck sighs.

Last night, on their third date, which was very traditional and not at all disgusting, Eddie and Maddie had officially declared themselves boyfriend and girlfriend. Maddie texted him the news bright and early with a dozen exclamation points, and Buck’s gut has been in turmoil all day long.

On the one hand, it really is no big deal. People date all the time, and the pool of actually decent partner choices is clant at the best of times, so why not choose someone you know is vetted? Buck isn’t going to be that asshole that gatekeeps his sister from potential pursuers. He’s not a 12th century monarch. Eddie and Maddie are both adults, free to do as they wish.

On the other hand, Buck’s been steadily wanting to punch something more and more ever since he walked into work this morning to Eddie’s quietly self-satisfied expression.

And Chimney’s not helping, blowing it out of proportion, almost giving Buck an excuse to be enraged. But he’s never even met Maddie. So Buck won’t take him up on it.

He’ll keep quietly stewing and hoping it goes away.

“My best friend and my sister,” Chimney mutters into his food again, chuckling.

They don’t have to wait long for Maddie to actually show up at the station, to Bobby’s delight and Buck’s quiet discomfort. She’s there a few days later, dropping by before her shift at the dispatch center, to, ostensibly, visit her brother, but by the smug looks on Hen and Bobby’s faces, she’s not fooling anyone.

Great. Now Buck will have to deal with them teasing Eddie about how in love and cute they are all day long. He’s already contemplating investing in industrial strength earplugs, but there’s probably a rule against that somewhere in the firefighter’s handbook.

“Oh, hi Eddie!” Buck hears Maddie exclaim from below the loft, and three curious heads peek over the railing to follow the action. “You forgot your charger at my place last night. Here, I think I might have it in my purse somewhere–”

Buck watches her poor attempts at acting casual, and tries to keep down his breakfast. He’s sure all brothers feel that way when faced with their sister flirting, right? At the implication that she spent the night together with their (best) friend?

He's never actually seen Maddie and Eddie as a couple together in the same room before. And he definitely didn’t wake up mentally prepared for it. The silver lightning is that they, evidently, aren’t one of those PDA couples. Thank God. Eddie even seems increasingly uncomfortable, twiddling his thumbs, not saying anything as Maddie fiddles through her bag.

The awkward silence, apparent from even up in the kitchen, is thankfully broken by a rambunctious entrance of one Chimney Han.

“Hey, did anyone see my–” too focused on digging through his duffle bag to notice anyone there, Chim bumps face-first into Eddie, and they both take a stumble, just barely avoiding Maddie on their precarious trip to regaining balance. Bobby leaves his stakeout position with a grumble, apparently having had enough of his kids’ antics for one day. “–hairspray. Who’s this?”

He’s obviously fresh out of the shower, uniform carelessly thrown on over a white undershirt, and he drops the bag and towels he’s holding to hastily button himself up when he notices Maddie standing there, like a little Victorian maiden caught with her ankle exposed.

Eddie gestures vaguely.

“This is Maddie. Uhhh–” he trails off, not completely sure how much he's allowed to say, the 'girlfriend' title still fresh and unfamiliar, Buck can only assume. He’s been in the same situation more times than he’d like to admit. Although, for him, it's usually with one-night stands desperate to get rid of him.

Hen mutters a "Yikes," from Buck's side, but he quickly shushes her.

Maddie takes a few seconds too long to finish Eddie’s sentence, like she hasn’t even noticed, awkward tension filling the air in her stead, and if Buck’s eyes aren’t leading him astray, it almost seems like she’s too focused on the movement of Chimney’s fingers to think straight. Eddie’s hand is still hanging limply in the air, pointing in her direction.

Then, Chim finishes buttoning up his uniform, and it's like a switch flips that snaps her out of whatever trance she was in.

“Um. Hi! Oh my God, hi, I’m Maddie. Sorry about that.”

Buck winces minutely at her failed volume control, the greeting shrill and overexcited. She holds out a hand to Chim, which Buck can only imagine has him privately amused, because he's always been more of a fist-bump, bro-hug kind of guy.

“I’m Buck’s sister. Here to see if all the 118 fuss is justified.” She swirls a finger around, giggling a little. Buck notices she didn't call Eddie her boyfriend either. He's not sure why that brings him so much relief.

A few seconds pass, and then both Maddie and Chimney seem to notice at the same time that they’re still shaking hands.

They pull away hastily, Chimney wiping his sweaty palm on his uniform pants.

“Oh! Oh. Maddie, of course. You’re so much more– than I imagined," he says, gesturing in the air and nodding dumbly. His jaw doesn’t close all the way, Buck notices, drooping a bit open in… shock? Surprise?

“Well, I always strive to be 'more',” Maddie lets out a laugh, ever gracious in the face of awkwardness. “And you are…?”

“Chim! Chimney. Firefighter Han, at your service," he rushes to reply, and points at his chest, where he’s not wearing a nametag or a badge yet. Buck kinda wants to die of secondhand embarrassment, just a little bit.

“Ah," Maddie says, recognition clicking into place. "The very same Chimney that was promised to me by Buck? To help with the electronics when I was moving in?”

Chimney, for his part, has the gall to look sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing up at the loft, making sure that Buck isn't listening. Hen and he duck out of the way just in time to avoid being noticed, and wait with bated breath before carefully peeking over the railing again.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Something– very important came up. I really wanted to come. But you know how life is.”

“Mhmm," Maddie makes a disbelieving noise, but Buck knows she's just teasing. She doesn't actually have any evidence on the contrary. For all she knows, he’s telling the truth. Chimney’s lucky that Buck felt benevolent enough that day to not rat him out. Lucky!

For a second, none of them move or say anything. Eddie’s off to the side, looking completely uninterested, but Maddie and Chim seem to be unable to tear their eyes away from each other. It seems a little bit weird to Buck, but there could be a number of reasons that explain it. Maybe they met somewhere before, and are trying to figure out why the other person seems so familiar. Maybe there’s a bit of shaving cream stuck to Chimney’s cheek that Buck can’t see from up here, and Maddie is debating telling him. It’s fine.

And then the alarm blares, calling for the ambulance and the ladder, and all of them spring into action instinctively.

Chimney pats himself down, making sure he’s presentable enough to head out. Bobby turns off the stove as Hen shoves her ice cream back into the freezer and they both run down like clockwork. Buck lingers, though, allows himself just a millisecond, just to see the panicked way Maddie and Eddie look at each other at the interruption.

In all honesty, Buck had almost forgotten that Eddie was even there. By the looks of it, so did Maddie. She does a double take when she sees him, and it’s like she has to think twice before going in for a hug. Their embrace is awkward, almost forced, considering they’ve barely exchanged two sentences since she showed up. When they pull away they both first go left, then they both overcorrect and go right, doing a little shimmy before finally reaching an agreeable position that lets them kiss each other goodbye.

Chimney averts his eyes, leaving without another word. So does Buck, sinking feeling in his chest as he rushes down the stairs belatedly.

When he gets to the truck, Eddie’s already there. They don’t talk for the duration of the ride.

After that first time, it’s like Maddie is always around.

The first few visits she sticks to the sister excuse; she wants to see how her brother's settling in, wants to make sure everyone's treating him right (and Buck absolutely hasn't missed feeling like a teenager as he approaches his thirties. No, sir.)

The next few, as she and Eddie settle into a relationship, which is still extremely weird for Buck to think about, it’s a t-shirt Eddie forgot at her place, or she's come by early to pick him up for their date, or she wanted to bring him lunch. It should be romantic, and Hen certainly seems to think so, but Buck can’t bring himself to agree. Every single one of their interactions makes him want to hide out in the toilets until Maddie leaves and the danger of seeing them kiss has passed.

And Eddie kisses her hello and goodbye every time. Buck's sicker and sicker to see it with every passing day. He’s still not sure why, because he’s completely fine with them dating, as long as they do it out of his line of sight and he doesn’t have to know anything about it, ever.

Maddie shares ER stories with Hen, and discusses newly implemented rules in the dispatch system with Bobby, or brings batches of cookies that she baked for the whole shift (at which Buck frowns. Maddie doesn't bake.) and Buck finds that his territorial tendencies, which he thought were over after Eddie, would at least exempt his sister, but apparently not. Because this is His space. And he doesn't mind her there, really, until he sees her next to Eddie and then something green is bubbling in his stomach and screaming at her to get out.

But she’s always there, at dinner more days than not, sitting at their table, right across from Eddie. Buck appreciates, at least, that she tries to not let her biases towards her boyfriend show.

Because just as she always sits in front of Eddie, her unofficial spot is always at Chimney’s side.

Buck watches them, sometimes, and smugly thinks that one of these days he really ought to make Chim pay up for not wanting to be her friend earlier. That’s what he gets for not trusting Buck’s judgment. They seem to be getting really close– Chim will whisper in her ear, explaining one inside joke or the other, and she will mutter a snide remark under her breath, making him laugh until his eyes scrunch up and Bobby has to cough pointedly. Buck can almost hear the “share with the class” implication of it.

And Eddie, next to Buck, doesn’t seem to mind at all. He pokes at his food, head down, but his face is perfectly impassive, not a hint of jealousy making itself known. Occasionally, when the weight of Buck’s worried gaze on the side of his face gets too much, Eddie will look up at him, blink slowly– I’m okay –and smile a little smile that makes Buck’s heart ache. Then they will keep talking, and laughing, and eating dinner, exchange going unnoticed. Even as Buck keeps it locked away in the confines of his mind as the highlight of the day.

“Don’t you have a job to get to?”

Hen shoots Buck a stern look, but he’s tired of being subtle.

Maddie’s been shooting pool with her and Eddie for what feels like hours now, Chimney nowhere to be found, and Buck’s on the couch, just seething. Because it doesn’t feel like he can be himself when Maddie’s around. He has to watch what he says and does around her and Eddie, careful not to offend. Not to make it known that, hey, he’s not actually fine with this. Because he has to be supportive.

His sister is in a great romantic relationship with his best friend. What’s not to be supportive of? If Buck says it enough times, one day he might even believe it.

Maddie takes it in stride, though, glancing at her watch and declaring cheerily, “Welp. That’s my cue to leave.”

She gathers up her things as Hen protests, laughing all the while and insisting that, no, Buck is right, she really ought to get going. He looks down at his book as Maddie leans up on her tippy-toes to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, embarrassed beyond belief to be witnessing it. They whisper something to each other, and Buck does not feel seething jealousy. He isn't privy to their little couple inside jokes. He shouldn’t be.

She leaves with little fanfare, promising they’ll hear from her on at least one call before the end of the day.

The thing is, she really does have a shift scheduled.

So why is it, then, that when Buck makes his way to the truck bay twenty or so minutes later, he hears her tell-tale giggle coming from the back of the ambulance?

He walks slowly, cautiously, just in case he made a mistake and it’s not actually his sister and in fact some other lady making herself comfortable on their emergency vehicles. But no, of course he’s not, and when Buck rounds the ambulance he‘s met face to face with Chimney, who was supposed to be doing inventory, and his sister, both sitting carelessly on the lip of the truck, fiddling with boxes of gauze, laughing.

They both startle when they notice him, smiles dropping off their faces like Buck just came and rained on their parade. He sees them even move physically further away from each other, like merely being seen together is something shameful. But it’s not. Why would it be?

“Maddie? You’re gonna be late.” Buck looks down at his phone, frowning, and sees Maddie following suit.

“Shoot, umm.” She glances at Chimney, guilt coloring her face. “I really will be late. I’ll, uhh–”

“See you around,” Chim nods, with a finality to his tone and a deftly concealed but still sad expression.

Buck glances between the two of them. Notices the reluctance in either of them to say goodbye. Wonders what that’s about.

Maddie lingers, fiddling with a box one last time before setting it down. Her legs are pointing in the direction of her car, but her head is still swerved around to face Chimney. The last time Buck saw that expression on her face, she was seriously considering skipping her final exams in favor of going out with Doug.

“Right,” she says, and Buck sees she’s made a decision. “I’m– I– Yeah. I’ll– I’ll be around.”

Chim nods, waving her away. “See you, dispatcher Buckley.”

Buck follows her subdued smile as she walks to her car with a little wave of his own, then turns to Chimney. “Dude.”

Chimney’s expression is a little scared, but he faces Buck head-on despite.

“Yeah?”

Buck grins, clapping him on the shoulder. “See? I told you you’d be great friends!”

Chimney laughs, exhaling all of the worry until nothing is left in the lines of his body except relief. Buck doesn’t quite understand, but he’s glad either way. His friends are all friends with each other! It’s fucking great.

Chim stops yelling “My best friend and my sister!” every time he sees Buck and Eddie in the same room after the first few weeks of Maddie being around. Buck’s glad, because the novelty wore off quickly, (and it was never really that funny in the first place) but the notion of him and Eddie being best friends… sticks.

First Buck slips up, and mentions it in Eddie’s earshot. He tells a victim on a call that ‘his best friend’ will take care of them, so they’ll be just fine, and by the time he realizes it Eddie’s already smiling down at the patient, and it’s too late to say sorry. Then Eddie says it, offhand in front of Chris, equating his new best friend from school to Buck, and then it’s just a fact of life.

Buck and Eddie are best friends.

Which is a good reminder for Buck, because he starts spending more time at the Diaz house than at his own, brand-new loft.

First, he’s around to watch Chris the few nights a week that Eddie and Maddie go on dates. Neither of them mentions why Buck needs to, or where Eddie’s going. They skirt around the topic like it’s a particularly explosive device, pretending for both Chris’s sake and Buck’s that Eddie is going out with his army buddies.

And usually, when Eddie comes home, he asks Buck to stick around. They put Chris to bed together, routine down pat, Eddie tucking him in and Buck reading a bedtime story. They crack open two beers, and Buck listens to Eddie talk about everything and anything except the date he was just on, as Buck eats his leftovers from the restaurant.

And then it starts happening even when Eddie doesn’t have a date planned. Buck helps him make dinner at home instead, both of them dancing around Eddie’s kitchen scrambling for ingredients, careful not to mess up Bobby’s detailed recipe, Chris blasting the latest top 40 hit and all three of them singing the misheard lyrics loud enough to annoy all the neighbors. It becomes the highlight of Buck’s weeks, the guilty domesticity they settle into when he lets himself forget that Eddie is in a relationship with his sister.

But the dates get rarer and rarer, and despite how much he’s enjoying it, Buck knows he has to intervene.

“Hey, so you and Maddie… That’s still going strong, right?” he asks one night, conspicuously over the game Eddie put on.

Eddie frowns at him, green light from the tv illuminating the side of his face. Buck finds him unfairly beautiful, soft and relaxed and a little bit rumpled, and then remembers he’s not supposed to think that, so he focuses on the TV instead.

“Yes? I mean, of course? Where’s this coming from?”

He sounds cautious at the sudden line of questioning. Buck gets it– he doesn’t actually think they ever talked about this thing going on between the three of them. Isn't sure Eddie ever voluntarily told him anything about his and Maddie's relationship. Doesn't know if he ever officially gave Eddie his blessing– and isn’t that a thought?

On the one hand, maybe Eddie should have asked if Buck was okay with it. On the other, Buck's not sure he would've been able to say yes.

“It’s just,” he sighs. “She’s my sister, right? I kinda never gave you the shovel talk.” Eddie ahhs, turning down the television to show he’s listening. “She’s been through a lot, and I just… need you to treat her right.”

Eddie nods slowly, contemplating. “Alright. I'm trying to. Is this coming from anything specific?"

Buck shrugs. "You never go on dates anymore."

He doesn’t know if that’s actually true. For all he knows, they grab breakfast together every single day, and she’s sleeping over any day Buck isn’t. A part of him is loath to even poke the topic, preferring to live in obliviousness, but a bigger part of him needs to fix things. Needs to make sure that Eddie and Maddie’s relationship is perfect. Because if he can’t be happy, at least they should be.

"I’ll take her on a date tomorrow.”

Eddie doesn't deny it. Just tries to remedy the issue. Buck is unsure how to interpret that. He’d only wanted to give them a little push, not– direct action.

“I didn’t mean–" he tries, but Eddie cuts him off.

“No, it’s fine. I was planning to, anyway.”

It sounds honest enough, but Buck’s getting to know Eddie. Know him like a best friend does. And the face he’s making right now is suspiciously not the one he makes when he’s honest.

Oh, well. Maybe Buck is mistaken, just this once.

The next day is a rare shift that Eddie isn’t with them. It shouldn’t throw Buck off as much as it does, and he tries to pretend he’s fine about it, but when your coworkers make up about 50% of your job satisfaction, you tend to notice their absence. Especially when it's your unofficial-official partner and best friend. Especially when you know he’s going on a date with your sister today and it’s all you can think about.

Buck’s phone rings in the early afternoon, just as he's moping around hard enough for Bobby to be throwing him worried looks. He’s seriously debating whether bathroom duty would be a good distraction or not when Eddie’s name pops up on the caller ID and his heart drops halfway to his stomach in two seconds flat.

“Eddie?” he picks up, and he can't hear his own voice over the buzzing in his ears, but he must sound unusually worried, because it turns more than one head in the station.

He doesn't have a reason to panic, exactly. Not every time they call each other is an emergency– just the other day, Eddie was asking him about pasta shapes. But Buck’s on the job, and Eddie wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important. So he picks up, and dreads the first words that will come from Eddie's mouth.

“Heyyy, Buck.”

Eddie’s tone is dragged out and apologetic, settling Buck’s stomach immediately but making him raise an eyebrow instead. He sounds almost playful, and Buck knows it can only mean one thing. He quirks his chin up in question.

“What’d you fuck up?”

Hen snorts from the couch, going from concerned to burying her nose back into a magazine, leaving him be.

“Can’t I just call my best friend with no hidden agenda?” Eddie asks, but it’s thin, and Buck sees right through it. Even as his heart skips a beat at the casual way Eddie says best friend.

“No. Spill.”

Eddie sighs. Buck tries to fight back a smile. A simple sigh, worth more than a thousand words. “Okay, look.” Great start. “I completely forgot Chris’s school is doing PTA tonight. I’ve missed the last 3 meetings, and I really don't want to dip out again because of a date… But also I already made reservations and Maddie was so excited and I have no idea what to do right now.”

He rushes through that last part, words slurring together, but Buck knows him well enough to be able to gather the gist of it.

“Maybe call her and explain?" he says, sarcasm dripping from it. "Why are you even talking to me?”

Eddie makes a pained noise in the back of his throat, and it makes Buck's lips twitch into a smile, kind of hurting his cheeks with the force of it.

“Are you scared of my sister?”

“Yeah, a little bit, yeah.” Eddie’s confirming before Buck even finishes the sentence.

Buck rolls his eyes. So predictable, the two of them. And so dumb around each other. Like teenagers fumbling through what they think a relationship is supposed to be. Some may find it cute. Buck just finds it infuriating.

Luckily, he's here to fix every mishap and help them along the way. Nothing but the best for his loved ones.

“Look, I’m gonna ask Bobby if he’ll let me dip out for an hour," he says, to Eddie's quiet whoo in the background. "Don’t want the reservations to fall through. But it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

It's true that he hasn't had a proper sit-down with his sister in months, and Bobby will surely let him go, considering the circumstances. He’s kind of adopted Maddie as another daughter. Buck just hopes Maddie won't spend the majority of the evening ruminating on how Eddie isn't there and how amazing Eddie is as a boyfriend and how much she misses him, et cetera, et cetera.

Buck’s too busy thinking about how good of a best friend he is and listening to Eddie’s praises of “You’re a lifesaver,” ringing in his ear to notice Chimney appearing at his elbow.

“What’s going on?” he asks, gesturing to Buck’s phone and his general tense state.

Buck presses a palm over the mic, loosely so that Eddie can still hear him snitching on him. “Eddie has to ditch Maddie for a date tonight so we’re figuring out how to break it to her.”

“Oh. I can go,” Chim says, instantaneous, and it makes Buck stop in his tracks. Eddie pauses too, because Chim is loud enough for Buck's phone to pick up. “What? I’m working a half shift today. And I’ve been wanting to try out that place.”

“You don’t even know where I was taking her,” Eddie mutters, and by the blush coloring Chimney’s cheeks, Buck knows he heard it.

“I mean, it’s not a terrible idea…?” he suggests. This way, the station won’t be two men down, and no one will be losing out on a paycheck, or have to suffer through TMI sisterly conversations, or miss out on middle-school teachers’ wonderful puns.

There’s no comment from Eddie. Chim just looks hopeful. Buck lets the prolonged silence decide for him.

Finally, Eddie succumbs and sighs. “Fine. I’ll call her to let her know.”

“Don’t,” Chimney protests hastily before Eddie has a chance to hang up. “It can be a surprise? Buck, does Maddie like surprises?”

Buck hums non-committally in a beats me tone.

“Then it’s decided,” Eddie says. “Thanks guys. Now let me get back to mentally preparing for the jokes.”

Buck snorts, giving a thumbs up to Chim and moving onto the couch, because the other man really doesn’t need to hear about Eddie’s PTA horror stories.

“Expecting any new ones? Maybe you can shoot back? Fight fire with fire?”

“No,” Eddie shuts him down firmly. Buck only giggles as he watches Chimney strut into the gym with a satisfied smile on his face. All’s well that ends well, right?

The reservation is at 8pm. Buck makes it a heroic 30 minutes past before calling Maddie.

It’s not that he’s worried, exactly, because Chim is a good guy and they seem to be getting along decently, but he’s nothing if not an attentive little brother. And he's a little bit worried. Chimney's the worst of them all, when it comes to battlefield stories. For all he knows, Maddie's already disowned him.

She picks up amidst a bout of giggles, high-pitched and uncontrollable, and Buck has to wait a comically long amount of time before she calms down enough to actually be able to say anything.

“Buck?” he hears her sniffling, heaving as she catches her breath. He tries and fails to imagine Chim saying anything funny enough to warrant this reaction. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

She asks, but it doesn't sound like she actually cares that much, distracted and a little bit far away.

“That’s what I’m calling to ask,” Buck says, slowly, carefully. “I know it was a last-minute change of plans, but is Chim good company at least?”

It’s a rhetorical question, he realizes, and he can hear Maddie grin. There's something disgustingly delirious about her whole demeanor. Buck can't remember the last time he heard her this happy.

Actually, he can. It was the night she asked Eddie out.

“Oh, yeah," she drawls, dismissive. "He was just telling me why you guys call him Chimney.”

“What?” Buck shoots up in his seat. It's news. It's huge fucking news. It's a bombshell. “I don’t even know that yet. Maddie–”

“No,” she cuts him off, knowing what he was about to ask. And can you blame him? At this point, knowing Chimney's backstory is a privilege mythical enough for Buck to resort to the lowest measures possible.

“One Hundred US American Dollars,” he announces.

“Sorry Buck,” Maddie says, obviously not sorry at all, judging by the smile still apparent in her voice. He only fumes a little bit. “I’m already sworn to secrecy.”

“Blood oath,” Buck hears Chimney mutter, which should make his blood boil in jealousy but it weirdly doesn’t.

For the sake of argument, he tries to imagine Eddie ever sharing something this intimate with Maddie. And suddenly he's not having a good, fun time at all.

“No, Buck," Maddie pulls him out of his stunned silence, "before you ask, no one bled tonight, it was just a joke.”

Not what he was worried about, but her reassurances are appreciated either way.

"No it wasn't," Chimney again, distant, and then a much louder sound of Maddie leaning over the table and slapping him on the shoulder.

“Night’s still young,” Buck can’t help but mutter into his chin, cynical, wondering when it started feeling like he was going through life slightly out of time with everyone else.

It’s rare that they get to a call where the dispatcher’s input is of crucial importance, but it happens.

When they get to the scene, it’s easy to locate the victim– the middle aged man is passed out in his front yard, phone lying discarded next to him, still connected to 911. His lawn mower is buzzing off to the side, an accident waiting to happen, and Buck happily tames it while Hen and Eddie get to work. They start taking his vitals, running diagnostics, and Bobby, slightly out of character, picks up the phone. Buck sees him nod once before hanging up, and then he starts fiddling with his radio.

A second later, they can all hear Maddie’s voice, loud and clear and all business-like and professional, briefing them on the patient’s reported symptoms and the medical history she’d managed to pull up. Buck smiles, because the call isn’t that dire, and he can allow himself to enjoy his sister's presence from far away. He hasn’t heard her in work-mode before. It’s kind of endearing.

The guy’s a diabetic, apparently, and Hen quickly diagnoses him with hyperglycemia, gesturing for Eddie to start pushing fluids.

Mystery solved, the nervousness in Buck’s stomach, ever-present on medical calls, when he’s not really able to contribute much, settles. That’s why his attention is so easily drawn from Eddie’s rolled up sleeves exposing his forearms, to Chim, strutting up to Bobby’s now-silent radio shamelessly and loudly asking, “Is that Maddie? Hi, Maddie!”

Buck laughs, as Bobby’s weak protests of “We’re not really supposed to–” are cut off by Maddie’s enthusiastic call back to Chim.

“Hello, Howard!” What the hell, Buck wonders. “Fancy running into you here. Is the caller being treated accordingly?”

Bless her. He’s still reeling from the first-name-usage, and he’ll unpack it more later, but bless her for not letting Chimney derail the situation too much.

“Oh, he’s in good hands,” Chim says, glancing over at Hen, which makes Buck follow his gaze.

Except his eyes land on Eddie instead, quietly focused and competent, kneeling on the grass with a dip in his eyebrow that Buck has the weirdest urge to touch. His face is perfectly blank at the mention of Maddie. Like he hasn’t even noticed. Or, if he has, like he isn’t even half as excited as Chim is.

The only explanation Buck can think of is they got a warning from Bobby. He’s always been insistent that coworkers in a relationship are always more compromised than mere friends are. And it makes perfect sense. Eddie’s probably just afraid to break that trust.

“I know he is,” Maddie replies fondly. “Say hi to Eddie for me, will you?”

Chimney’s head snaps back to Bobby’s radio, and so does Buck’s. He feels preemptively disgusted, very well familiar with Chimney's innuendos by now, dreading where the phrase 'capable hands' in relation to his sister and her boyfriend could take them. But, to his utter surprise, Chimney remains uncharacteristically restrained.

He frowns at his shoes, a little subdued suddenly, all the excitement gone, and Buck feels the same way. Although his ailment was of his own making, inadvertently making himself think about Eddie and Maddie's relationship– something he was trying to avoid more and more, recently.

“Uhh– yeah. Eddie. Of course I will.”

Then Chimney is gone in a flash, sending a quick smile Bobby’s way. He doesn’t stick around to hear Maddie’s answer, because the caller is waking up and needs to be put on a gurney, and that's as good of an excuse as any, Buck guesses.

“Patient is waking up and appears stable," Buck hears Bobby saying, exasperated with all of them. "Thank you for the assist, dispatch. 118 captain Nash, signing off.”

Eddie is the 118 A-shift’s newest member and only currently standing probie.

Buck finds that weird to think about, considering it feels like he’s known him forever. Already Eddie's knowledge and input are priceless on calls, but more importantly, Buck's already latched onto him as a partner, and if anyone ever took his place, Buck would find it very easy to mercilessly wreak havoc upon the greater Los Angeles area.

Eddie's seat in the ladder truck is already firmly established, his name has been added and just as quickly erased from the kitchen duty rotation, and his locker, shared with Buck, is already riddled with candids of Christopher. Which Buck isn't complaining about.

But it's not all perks all the time. Eddie's still the probie, which means he is the resident supplier of everybody's daily mid-shift coffee needs.

The closest decent coffee shop to the station is right across the street and around the corner, and Bobby often takes pity on them, allowing them to survive one man down for 15 minutes for the sake of coffee. Sometimes, home brew just doesn't cut it.

None of that explains why Buck always tags along with Eddie, but no one questions it, so he goes happily.

Maybe because it’s easier to haul ten cups of steaming hot coffees and teas with two pairs of hands, maybe because getting alone time is increasingly impossible during a 24h shift, be as it may, the coffee runs have quickly become the highlight of Buck’s workdays.

And if 15 minutes more often than not turn into 30, Bobby pretends not to notice. Buck always gets him an extra slice of apple pie anyway, just as a sign of appreciation.

They’re heading back, dragging their feet, because the longer they spend outside the longer Buck can exist in this liminal space. Where only him and Eddie matter. They always walk a little too pressed up into each other, swaying to and fro, shoulders and elbows bumping constantly, and the touch makes Buck smile inadvertently, maybe even more than Eddie's easy banter does.

So it’s jarring when they approach the station, only to see two figures sitting out front. The sound of laughter makes its way over to Buck even if the words don't, and it's obvious the couple is wrapped up in their own little world. One of them is in a uniform, the other in civilian, and as Eddie and Buck approach, Buck recognises her.

Maddie.

He feels the smile falling off his face. Because it’s his sister, yeah, whom he loves the most in the world, and is always ecstatic to see.

But she’s also Eddie’s girlfriend. And Buck's been doing a really good job of ignoring that fact, lately.

Eddie seems to have the same reaction next to him, falling silent and somber as they approach Maddie, who still hasn’t noticed them. And why would she, when the person she's talking to is, predictably, Chimney, gesticulating wildly enough for his sunglasses to fall off their perch on his head. As he bends to pick them up, they both see Buck and Eddie coming, and their conversation quickly vanes.

And then it’s like the four of them are stuck in a weird sort of limbo, no one quite sure what they’re supposed to do. They're all friends, so hellos would suffice, probably, but Buck doesn't feel like talking, tongue like chalk in his mouth, hands gripping onto his coffee tray tightly.

“Um. Hi, Eddie!” Maddie tries, giving a weak smile, there and gone in a second.

She walks to Eddie on unsteady feet after a moment's hesitation, three strides until she’s right in front of him, eyes level somewhere around his shoulders. Mindful of the drinks he’s holding, she places two palms on his chest and– leans up for a kiss.

Buck should look away– he really should. It’s weird, first of all, seeing his big sister kiss anybody.

But the thing is, he can’t.

His eyes are stubbornly fixated on Eddie. They usually are, but this is the first time he’s witnessing what Eddie looks like when he's being kissed. The angle of his jaw as he leans down to meet Maddie halfway, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips where they press against hers. It does something weird to Buck’s belly, and he muses briefly that the coffee didn’t sit right with him, before remembering he still hasn’t taken a single sip.

Thankfully, Eddie and Maddie both aren’t much into public displays of affection, so Buck doesn’t have to be subjected to them making out wildly in broad daylight. But the peck still lasts for an uncomfortably long time, long enough for Buck to question if he’s just imagining it.

Their lips stay pressed together, tight and unmoving, and it's then that Buck notices Eddie’s eyes are open, fixated somewhere over Maddie’s left shoulder, dazed and unseeing.

For lack of anything better to do, aware that he’s spent too long examining the way his best friend kisses, he shifts his eyes to where Eddie seems to be looking– and is met with Chim, hands in pockets and fiddling the tips of his shoes, resolutely not looking at the now-definitely-uncomfortably-long kiss.

He looks seconds away from running back inside, and Buck is seriously considering joining him, but Maddie finally pulls away, coughing awkwardly into her hand, and the spell is broken. Eddie doesn’t say anything, staring her down gently as she adjusts her hair in the light breeze.

Gone are his smiles and jokes and shoulder-bumps, face emotionless, as if afraid to let anything show in front of an audience. And Buck hasn’t been audience for a long time.

“I’ll, um– I’ll let you guys get back to it," Maddie says. "I only came to return your tupperware, Eddie. It’s upstairs.”

Eddie doesn’t cook, Buck thinks to himself.

So the only explanation for the tupperware ending up in Maddie's possession is Abuela. Eddie made his grandma cook something in order to impress a girl, and that's– cute. Buck has to remind himself that it’s cute, and not the other thing he was thinking.

“You should’ve called. We could’ve gotten you a coffee,” Buck tells Maddie, mostly to distract himself from the thoughts running around his head, about how often Eddie and Maddie spend the night together, and how familiar they are with each other, if they have inside jokes or long-term plans or a bedtime routine set up with Chris. Like Buck does.

“Nah, I didn’t even–"

“You can have mine,” Chimney butts in, making three heads turn his way. “It’s gonna be a bit too bitter for your taste, but we have creamer upstairs.”

He points a finger over his shoulder, up to the loft, a little too eager, and Buck idly wonders why Chimney knows how Maddie likes her coffee. He’s not even sure he knows. Must be one of those things.

When Mddie turns around to face him, a real smile blossoms for the first time since Eddie and Buck showed up, and it's radiant and beautiful and… a little sad.

“No, I– I have other things to do, really. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t just bother the 118 all day long,” she glances at Buck nervously. “It was nice seeing you. All. Enjoy your drinks.”

She throws a final look Eddie's way, nodding, and goes. And only because Buck's intentionally not looking at her or Eddie does he notice Chim's finger's twitch, like he wants to call her back. Like he doesn't want her to leave.

And it’s not that Buck is suspicious of Eddie. He couldn’t in a million years believe that he has even one evil bone in his body. Whatever relationship problems he and Maddie have, if any, Buck can confidently presume they’re not of the Doug kind.

But Maddie has just come out of a years-long abusive marriage, and Buck is nothing if not overly cautious. Old habits are hard to break, patterns and associations remain even when the other party is none the wiser, and the other day she seemed weird around Eddie. And at the slightest imperfection in their relationship, Buck will deck Eddie in the face. So he shows up on Maddie’s doorstep one unassuming evening to grill her about it.

When Maddie opens the door, she’s on the phone, pressed tightly to her ear, remnants of a smile gracing her face.

“Wait, Buck just showed up,” she says, and it’s lighter and happier than he’s seen in years, but a slight frown is pulling on her eyebrow. Because Buck doesn’t just show up unannounced, unless it’s an emergency. Except now. “What’s up?”

“Can’t I just hang out with my sister for a night?” Buck says, peering into the apartment over her shoulder, slightly swinging around the bottle of red wine he brought, hoping to entice her into letting him in. It works, and she softens, moving aside to lock the door behind him.

He shrugs off his jacket as Maddie goes to decant the wine– or not, judging by the half-empty glass already on the coffee table, and pretends not to be eavesdropping as she finishes up her phone conversation.

“Well, looks like this just turned into Buckley wine night,” she says, making Buck grin. Hell yeah it has. “Talk some other time? Alright, bye, Chim.”

She hangs up a second later, and Buck suddenly understands.

“You, uh, talk to Chimney a lot?” he asks, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer.

“Sometimes,” Maddie says, sheepish. She brings over another wine glass for him and a well-on-its-way-to-empty bottle. “He’s a surprisingly good friend. Not at all like you made him seem.”

She throws a little mean look to Buck as she says that last part. He never had anything bad to say about Chimney, but he certainly never talked him up as much as Eddie, and he’s beginning to think that might’ve been an oversight.

“So, you’re good, then?” Buck has to ask, glossing over that and straight to the point. “Settling in? New friends and all?”

“Yeah. I’ve really been– feeling happy. I’m a little bit afraid to say it, even now, but… I really think I have.”

“Then that’s all I could ever ask for,” Buck says, and when he leans up to press a kiss to her forehead she goes happily. “And Eddie?”

He grits out the question, even though he doesn’t really want to, but he has to know. They haven’t actually talked about it at all since Maddie asked Eddie out that first time

“Eddie’s great!” Maddie says, a bit too enthusiastically. She nods, as if backing up her statement. “He’s a… gentleman, through and through. Treats me like I’m precious.”

Buck fights against cringing. Of course Eddie does. He wouldn’t expect anything else.

“And it’s not… I don’t know. Maddie, you know you can tell me anything, right? Eddie might be my best friend, but if you ever break up, I’m on your side. And if he ever does the slightest thing–”

“No! Oh my God, Buck, no.” Maddie makes him put down his wine glass so that she can squeeze his hands and look him straight in the eye. “I know Doug was a mistake. I know that now. And I can promise it won’t happen again. Where is this coming from?”

Buck shrugs. “You seem… reluctant, with him in public.”

“You’re my brother,” Maddie says. “He’s your best friend. Of course we feel weird about kissing in front of you.”

Hearing her say that twists something in Buck’s gut, but it untwists the worry he held, so it all works out in the end.

He realizes that despite figuring out weeks ago that he never gave them his blessing, not only have neither of them asked for it in the meantime, he also hasn’t gone out of his way to rectify it. Oh, well.

“And, like,” Buck asks, gritting his teeth. “In private? All good?”

He doesn’t know what pushes him to check, besides morbid curiosity, but he has to know. Has to confirm, once and for all, that the problem is in him. That any other reason Maddie and Eddie aren’t acting like the perfect lovey-dovey enamored couple is simply not true, and Buck should stop entertaining ideas in that direction. Even ones that aren’t all that bad.

“All good, Buck,” Maddie says. Not teasing, not laughing, just robotic and serious and straight to the point. “Eddie hasn’t so much as moved too quickly around me. Trust me. It’s actually kind of annoying, sometimes. What did you tell him about me?”

“Nothing specific,” Buck defends. And he hasn’t, because her history was hers to share. He just thought she would have shared it with Eddie by now. “But okay, I trust you. I’m glad it’s going well.”

“Yeah,” Maddie says, looking away, taking a long swig of her wine. ‘Yeah. It’s going.”

Buck arrives to the Diaz household with nothing but his phone and keys in pocket, and he’s disproportionately excited for dinner. Usually, he’d be carrying stacks of groceries with him, but tonight is gonna be all about scavenging the fridge for ingredients. He’s already expecting Eddie’s dry backseat cooking, but Chris is going to love it for sure. Not for nothing, but Buck at least has that life skill to teach. Cooking and being economical with it.

He lets himself in and makes a beeline to greet Christopher, who’s at the kitchen table doing homework.

“Hey buddy. Where’s your dad?”

The house is quiet and airy like always, only the barest hints of jazz music making themselves known from Eddie’s room and nothing but the last rays of setting sunlight illuminating the area. They should turn on the ceiling lights soon, Buck thinks, because Chris is already squinting at his textbook, but he’ll let them all enjoy the natural light for a bit longer.

“In his room,” Chris says. “Getting ready.”

He’s not sure what Eddie would be getting ready for, but there are more pressing matters at hand, like why Chris isn’t all over Buck like usual. They’ve been trying to teach him that having fun is more… fun when all your responsibilities are taken care of, and it seems to be sticking, the way he’s furiously scribbling away at his homework. Buck takes a glance. Multiplication. Blah.

“Alright,” Buck says, ruffling his hair and leaving him be, “I’ll go find him.”

Eddie, as it turns out, isn’t in his room.

They bump into each other– literally– just outside the bathroom, Eddie’s exiting in a rush, and Buck doesn’t notice the door opening in time, so they crash and– the first thing Buck notices is that Eddie’s wearing his favorite cologne. Dark and spicy and a little bit earthy, definitely something that displays For Men proudly in the center of its packaging.

The second thing Buck notices is that Eddie looks good.

It’s a general fact of life at this point– Eddie looks good, the sky is blue and water is wet. And don’t get him wrong, Buck likes him just fine in loungewear, sweatpants worn out at the knees and socks with holes in the heel– but Eddie’s actually all dressed up now, and Buck thinks, Damn.

Jeans that shouldn’t be as tight as they are, possibly cutting off circulation, a black form-fitting shirt with the lowest cut out v-neck Buck’s ever seen, not-quite-clean-shaven, stubbly in the way only Eddie can pull off, and the St. Christopher's necklace suspiciously nowhere to be found.

Chris’s little comment suddenly makes a lot more sense.

After a beat too long where neither of them say anything, Buck notices that his hands are still on Eddie’s chest– just like Maddie’s were when they kissed, Buck’s brain supplies helpfully. He pulls away hastily, wiping them on his thighs– suddenly feeling way underdressed for the opportunity. It’s like a rug has been pulled out from under him.

“Where, um,” Buck says, almost biting his tongue when his eyes keep slipping from Eddie’s face to the exposed skin of his chest, “where are you going?”

Eddie, instead of answering normally, pushes past Buck and towards the dining room, and, not meeting his eyes, throws over his shoulder: “Date with Maddie.”

Oh.

Eddie says it quietly, because Chris still isn’t supposed to know, still thinks his dad is just grabbing drinks with army buddies or non-118 friends, but it knocks all the air out of Buck’s lungs despite. He’s left standing there, listening as Eddie kisses Christopher goodbye, tells him to be good for Buck, tells him that he’ll be home to tuck him in. That’s something, at least.

Buck tries to recall the last time he was here just for this purpose– babysitter, best friend, backup. When the status quo changed from ‘Hey, I don’t have a date tonight, but maybe you could come over anyway?’ to just ‘Come over,’ but the date is an anomaly big enough for Buck to feel turned inside out. Not that Chris isn’t great company on his own, but if Eddie was really going out with friends instead of on a date, Buck thinks that pill would’ve been easier to swallow.

He meets Eddie by the front door, hands in his back pockets, falling short of casual, while Eddie rushes to pull on a jacket.

“Where are you taking her?” Buck asks, jerking his chin up. Tries to convince himself it’s a completely normal question, motivated completely by normal brotherly curiosity, not anything else.

“Cinema. Isn’t it romantic?” Eddie says, and for a second Buck is confused, because, yeah, a movie date can be pretty romantic, but why would Eddie be asking for his approval? And then it clicks, and Buck’s heart squeezes so tight it might burst, something akin to betrayal pushing against his ribcage. Of course Eddie is taking Maddie out to see a Liam Hemsworth rom-com, you don’t exactly have a date watching horror or documentaries.

It’s just that, Eddie always watches rom-coms with Buck. They pretend it’s hate-watching, and they had a blast with Hallmark movies over the Christmas season, but someone’s eyes are always teary by the end when the girl gets the guy, and they both know it’s not Buck.

“We were supposed to see that together,” is out of Buck’s mouth before he can stop it. “I mean– not that– I didn’t mean–”

“I can cancel.”

Buck’s mouth snaps shut. Eddie says it so calmly, and he was in such a hurry to leave, before, but now he seems completely focused on Buck, searching out his eyes, questioning. His frantic pat-down for phone, wallet and keys turns into a calm offer to Buck, and it’s too generous, to even make him feel like he has a right to demand that of Eddie.

“I mean, there’s other movies. Or we could just skip that part entirely, grab dinner instead. And we’ll stream the movie when I get back?”

Buck wants to, is the thing. Desperately, selfishly, he wants it so fucking bad, wants to be the one making plans with Eddie instead. But it’s not his place, and it’s not his relationship. So he shakes his head, exhaling firmly to calm his spinning nerves.

“No, Eddie. Of course not. It’s dumb. I just assumed, since we always watch movies–”

“I could–”

“No,” Buck says, and Eddie deflates a little. “I’m being stupid. Just,” he waves a hand in the air, seeking an ending to that sentence, but he doesn’t find one.

Eddie nods. His feet make a miniscule motion, like he’s going to move, but he changes his mind at the last second and stays rooted in place, and so they both stand there, waiting for the other to do something, anything. Buck tries to make himself small, afraid that his feelings will traitorously make themselves known on his face, that Eddie will be able to read them in his eyes. He seems to be trying to, chasing Buck’s gaze until they lock together.

And then Buck is the one able to read Eddie.

And what he finds, gazing into his eyes, is weird. Eddie is waiting. Expectant, almost… hopeful? Like he’s wanting Buck to say something, giving him all the time he needs, but Buck doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. What is he allowed to say, that won’t ruin their friendship? How does he convey everything that’s been bothering him without being selfish and entitled? Without seeming like a bad brother?

So he says nothing, and watches as the light from Eddie’s eyes slowly drains. He slumps, finally, breaking eye contact, and Buck feels a breath enter his lungs for the first time in what must be minutes. Eddie nods, once, and turns to go.

“Wait,” Buck says, the sight of Eddie’s back snapping something in his resolve, and Eddie turns around at such break-neck speed that Buck’s a little dizzy with it.

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue. Just one word, really. The most important one.

Stay.

But he can’t say it. Because– because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he want Eddie to stay? He doesn’t have a problem with him dating Maddie, doesn’t have a problem watching Chris, doesn’t already miss Eddie with every atom of his being even before he’s stepped foot out the door, doesn’t, doesn’t, doesn’t.

Doesn’t deserve to ask him to stay.

So he nods, instead, gulping down the words itching to come out and making do with better ones. Better for him, for Eddie, for Maddie, for their friendship. “Have a good time.”

Eddie’s eyes, sparkling with fervor, shut down completely, any hint of emotion wiped out, and he’s out of the house without another word. The slam makes Buck jump, and finally gives him the strength to take a step forward that he’s been missing all this time. But he’s met with a closed door.

As Buck’s forehead rests against the cold wood, it finally clicks into place.

He’s not jealous because of Maddie. He’s not latently overprotective, or insanely possessive of his best friend. He’s not afraid that their relationship won’t work out.

He’s in love with his sister’s boyfriend.

He’s in love with Eddie.

And doesn’t that just spin his whole world onto its head?

The second Eddie gets home from the date Buck dips out, stumbling through excuses about– laundry, or something, he wasn’t completely of sound mind at the sight of Eddie, whom he’d just realized he was in love with.

With Chris, he’d been out of it all night, making it painfully obvious that something was wrong. The kid didn’t pester him about it, thank god, so they’d spent a quiet evening in, coloring over pizza while cartoons played in the background.

It’s just Buck’s luck, then, that the next day is a family affair at Athena’s. He has half a mind to not go– avoiding Eddie seems like the easiest option, that’s for sure– but the other man shows up at Buck’s loft half an hour before they’re supposed to be there and announces “I’m driving. Let’s go.”

Buck looks at him from his pile of pillows and snacks on the couch, embarrassment and heat rising onto his cheeks at the knowledge that fuck, this is the man he’s in love with. And he’s going to have to go the whole day pretending otherwise. Acting normal, repressing his feelings. If he’s not careful, he could ruin everything. And then he’d have to move to Alaska and change his name, and that wasn’t ideal.

He wonders how believable it would be to fake being sick. Probably very, considering he hasn’t showered since yesterday and has spent all day wallowing.

“Aren’t you going with Maddie?” he asks, just to torture himself. It’s bitter, ugly as it curls around his tongue, and he has to pretend to be entrenched in whatever’s on the TV so that Eddie doesn’t see the way his jaw clenches shut.

“Nope,” Eddie says, walking over like he owns the place and disposing of Buck’s comfort blanket. Buck glares at him, but it’s ineffective. “She’s going with Chim. I think they were out shopping this morning.”

“Why would they– no, I don’t want to know,” Buck says, getting up reluctantly and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Eddie sees him glancing at the wall clock. “When’s the last time you moved from that couch?”

“Shut up.” Buck ignores Eddie’s grin as he shoulders past him on his way to the bathroom. The little touch has goosebumps rising on his skin. “Give me fifteen.”

In the shower, he tries to hype himself up– you can do this, you’ve gone months subconsciously pretending you weren’t in love with Eddie, you can do it for a bit longer. How much longer? The rest of their lives, potentially? Buck gives the finger to his reflection in the mirror and stands in the steaming hot shower until he gets lightheaded.

Neither of them quite remembers what the occasion is, but the Grant-Nash house is fuller than usual when they get there, and they occasionally even run into some unfamiliar faces. Buck feels vaguely offended by that, but whatever. He forces himself to forget the revelation he’s had, and focuses on making rounds with Eddie. They both get bear hugs from Athena, a little sharp around the edges, and Karen somehow manages to swindle Buck into going to Ikea with her next weekend during their five minute conversation.

Buck gets lured into the false sense of security, living for a moment in a world where he and Eddie can be free to just exist, alone together, with no outside forces to threaten that. It’s beautiful, in this world.

And then Chim and Maddie show up.

They look just as flabbergasted as Buck and Eddie do, to be running into each other, and the four of them are left standing there for the most awkward ten seconds Buck’s ever experienced in his life. He’s almost convinced Maddie knows somehow, can see it by just looking at him, the way he gravitates towards Eddie and– hell, his hand is still on Eddie’s shoulder, still resting there after he was smacked for a particularly bad dad joke.

He pulls away hastily, not brave enough to check if Maddie’s onto him. She’s always been eerily able to read him. He doesn’t need that, right now.

Someone drops a plate in the next room, and at the shattering sound the four of them spring into action, like wind-up dolls released into motion. Buck brings Chim into an awkward one-armed hug, and Maddie and Eddie– kiss. Of course they do, that’s what a couple does, Buck reminds himself, as his eyes fail to stray away from them.

He hasn’t even had time to think about what to do past his little oh moment. He certainly isn’t going to break them up– he’s not going to ruin the best friendship he’s ever had on top of getting his sister’s scorn– but he can’t sit here and pine over Eddie’s every move for an indeterminable amount of time until they’re all old and gray.

His only option is to fall out of love, somehow. He’ll work on it later.

Maddie and Eddie do their thing, as always. The freakishly long and puritanic peck, like characters in a kids movie, but they at least seem to be making an effort to appear more natural. Buck knows it’s for him– they’d felt embarrassed about his presence before, but he’d made it at least somewhat clear that he supports them, and it seems to be doing its part in getting them to relax into each other a bit more. Upon reflection, he probably should have stayed mum about how supportive or not he was of their relationship. Plausible deniability, and such.

“Get a room!” someone whistles, and Buck snaps out of it equally as much as Eddie does, blushing even though he’s not the one being called out. He and Chim were just standing around doing nothing but observing the couple and that didn’t make for the best image.

But the anonymous voice is right. The lovely couple probably do want to be left alone. Buck’s had his fair share of Eddie, and now he is Maddie’s for the rest of the night. For the rest of their lives? He swallows and looks away as Maddie drags Eddie into the kitchen for some drinks.

“Let me get you a refill,” Eddie says, voice growing fainter as they leave Buck and Chim in the dust. “Orange juice, right?”

Next to Buck, Chimney makes a little cut-off noise in the back of his throat. He’d pretend he doesn’t know what it’s about, but he does.

Maddie, famously, hates oranges. She loves lemonade, however, despite Buck’s constant insistence that it’s all citrus at the end of the day. Looks almost offended whenever Buck brings it up, saying that it’s not the same thing, god, Buck, so he just gave up somewhere along the way.

Buck spares half a thought as to why Chimney knows Maddie’s preferred drink better than her own boyfriend does, but lets it go just as quick. Some things just don’t matter, in the long run. Chim stalks off to the back yard, muttering something about “Homemade lemonade,” under his breath.

The next time the party sees the four of them together, it’s nearing the end of the night, people slowly siphoning off until it’s just the inner circle left, and Buck immediately feels so much more comfortable in his own skin. Although he has spent most of the party after Eddie left alone, staring at walls in contemplation, brushing off everyone’s attempts to approach him like a depressed teenager. Which isn’t far off from how he really feels, honestly.

They’re sitting in the living room, the people left over just barely all fitting into it, but Maddie and Eddie are still unsuspiciously missing. It’s what newly-baked couples do, Buck reminds himself. Disappear into their own corner and forget everyone else. He shouldn’t care. No one around him seems to notice their absence.

The music is turned down low, the mess of plates and cups surrounding them strangely peaceful, and they’re all listening to Michael talk about his latest project, for a breath of fresh air, when he stops in the middle of a sentence to say–

“And there’s the lovebirds! We were wondering where you are.”

Buck looks over and, sure enough, Maddie and Eddie emerge from the hallway, slowly and a little bashfully. All the eyes in the room land on them, and Buck finds little comfort in the fact that at least they’re not holding hands or, god forbid, announcing an engagement.

As if reading his thoughts, Maddie speaks up.

“Actually, we broke up.”

Buck nods along, not really paying attention to the words, too busy stewing in his own misery to– wait, what?

He feels singled out, suddenly. Like he was somehow responsible for their downfall, by even just acknowledging that he was in love with Eddie privately in his own mind. Like the universe listened to him and have him the biggest fuck you possible. He’ll help them get back together. They were– they are happy together, right? They said so, at least. Relationships make everyone happy, and a break up will mean their little family falling apart, and Buck will have to choose who to side with, and they can’t, they can’t, just–

Chimney knocks over a glass next to Buck, but it’s empty and doesn’t break, so the noise is quickly passed over in the commotion.

“Wait, what?” someone asks, vocalizing Buck’s thoughts. He thinks it might be Hen, he’s not completely sure, seeing as his hearing isn’t quite working properly, at this time.

“Yeah, breaking news, sorry guys,” Eddie says unapologetic. “But it’s definitely better for everyone this way. It was a mutual decision. The conversation went something along the lines of–”

“‘I’m in love with Chimney’,” Maddie says, and the buzzing in Buck’s ears stops. He’s still processing her first statement when– “And Eddie just sighed in relief and said–”

“‘I’m in love with your brother’,” Eddie finishes for her, and Buck has the stray thought that it’s maybe the first time he’s ever heard one of them actually successfully complete the other’s sentence.

He’s too busy commiserating the facts in his brain– okay, it was a mutual agreement, they weren’t actually that happy, they’re both in love with other people– that it takes him a painfully long time to figure out that–

Holy shit, he’s Maddie’s brother. Eddie’s in love with him?

Buck’s out of his seat as soon as the words hit him, adrenaline coursing through his veins, which is good, because his legs are otherwise so unsteady he might as well fall over and face plant into the carpet right now. He doesn’t even care that they’re doing this in a room full of people because–

“Really?”

It’s the best he can come up with. Sue him. His hands are shaking erratically next to his sides.

Chimney follows his lead. He doesn’t stand up, because as much as he loves his dramatics this all must be a little too much for his tastes, but he still looks a little dazed as he asks, “Yeah, really?”

“Because, it’s reciprocated,” Buck adds. “Like, hardcore. Chim?”

“Yeah,” Chimney nods vigorously from his seat. “Yeah, yeah. Yeah.”

Maddie laughs, and there’s even a ghost of a smile on Eddie’s face as they take in the information.

“You people are so weird,” Michael says, breaking the tension. Buck could kiss him. Except that there’s another man in the room, whom he’d much rather like to kiss, and apparently that feeling is reciprocated. Holy shit.

Thank you, universe.

“It’s about time we wrapped this up, right?” Athena says, to sighs of relief from everyone. “I think certain people here have some long and hard conversations to go through. With each other, and then with me.” She pointedly raises an eyebrow at Buck. He salutes obediently.

When he steps out, Buck takes a breath of fresh air, and for the first time in a while he lets his lungs fill up all the way, lets it burn a little bit, gathering up all of the feelings he brought into this house today– and when he exhales he flushes all of them out, replacing them with newer, brighter ones. Hope, for starters. Contentment.

Eddie appears next to him, and then Maddie behind him, and Chimney following in tow. It should be awkward. It should, but it isn’t, not even a little bit, for the first time maybe ever with the four of them present. Now that Buck knows Chimney’s true intentions with his sister, their behavior over the past few months makes a lot more sense.

Ironically, if Chim had just come to help Maddie move when Buck asked him to, this whole story could have played out very differently. Wrong place, wrong time, he supposes.

He’s going to nag Chimney so hard, because his insistence to hold onto friendships outside of work only resulted in him missing out on the girl of his dreams, but it all worked out in the end, and the road led them where they were supposed to be eventually, so Buck thinks it wasn’t all bad.

It’s not going to be smooth sailing from now on, he knows. They’re not all going to fall into flawless relationships right out of the gate. Eddie and Maddie rushed into things, thinking back, desperate to get away from their past lives, from Shannon and Doug, and if Buck and Chim didn’t want to drag Abby and Tatiana baggage into the mess as well, they were all going to have to take it slow.

And for the first time, the thought isn’t daunting to Buck. He doesn’t want to rush into things with Eddie. They’ll go steady, at their own pace, and Buck is okay with that, because as Eddie grabs onto his hand and smiles at him, he knows that it’s forever. They’re a sure thing. And they’re gonna do it right.

Chimney sighs, staring into the sky, long and loud enough for the rest of them to turn. He puts on his sunglasses and, smacking his ever-present chewing gum, asks.

“So. Double date?”