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In retrospect, Eddie should have seen this coming.
The firehouse is always silent during the first hours of the day, especially when the first half of a 24-hour shift is filled with long calls and annoying, uncooperative people. Bobby is cooking breakfast for a group of sleepy and grumpy firefighters, heads low, bodies slumped on the chairs and the couches – Buck, the most morning person Eddie has ever met, is the only one not wearing a frown on his face. Even Ravi, the youngest, and Not a probie anymore! needs breakfast to reload – Eddie has witnessed many Panikkar morning failures caused by his inability to function without caffeine. One time he mistook a dummy for Bobby and apologized profusely for bumping into him in the storage room. Just yesterday, he managed to fall asleep while cleaning the trucks first thing in the morning.
He’s not the only one: Hen has called Buck Denny two times in a row before her coffee on Thursday; Chim’s yawn record before the first bell is thirty-three; Lucy stung herself with a fork after missing her mouth repeatedly while eating breakfast; Lawrence bumped into the pole and became the first emergency of the day; Torres put the uniform shirt on backward, their surname right under their nose. Even Bobby himself – though he still maintains his dignity to this day – has shown signs of tiredness – voice lower than usual, higher tolerance for Buck’s shenanigans, sighs more frequent.
Eddie has faltered now and then, slipping into Spanish more often than not, texting the wrong number when trying to catch Chris before school – when Frank answered to his Have a good day mijo! with a polite Thanks, you too, Eddie was about to implode. Nothing unusual though, everything on the same – or lower – level of the awkwardness of the others, and usually something of not too much import.
This time, Eddie would like to light up in flames – it would be inconvenient, though, since he would be put out almost immediately – because this is far worse than before.
He and Buck have been together for almost two weeks now, but it feels like they’ve been doing this for far longer. And they have, considering all the things they’ve been through in the past four – and more – years. Having each other’s back has been the all-encompassing founding principle on which they’ve built their lives, perhaps unknowingly, and on which they’ve created what has proved to be the strongest, most precious thing in their lives.
When it happened, it didn’t shake their existences to the core, it didn’t turn their world upside down. It almost didn’t surprise them, the natural consequence, the next step of their relationship. It was obvious, an expected outcome that shifted everything and nothing all at once. Sometimes Eddie thinks this is what Hen always means when she praises the wonders of falling in love with your best friend, but he knows that for them – Buck and Eddie – there’s more to it. They were already more than friends after a month of knowing each other. They were partners, then and all through the years, and they always will be – still doing what they’ve always done, with the added value of a hundred new possibilities.
This is why, as new yet familiar as this thing is for them, they haven’t bothered to tell anybody – Chris will be the first to know as soon as he returns from summer camp. Nobody has seemed to pick up on it either. Not when Buck, not so subtly, started living more and more with the Diazes, not when they made out in a storage closet at the firehouse during a q-word shift, not when Buck was nowhere to be found and Maddie met a flustered Eddie at the door – maybe Maddie knows, maybe, but she hasn’t said anything so far.
They’re not trying to keep it down – their hands and eyes linger on one another as much as they did before, only now they know what comfort to find in them – leaving it a secret until it somehow comes up.
This is how Eddie finds himself in this situation.
He’s sat at the table, slouching on the chair with his chin on his chest, eyelids drooping, and when Buck hands him his first coffee – exactly how he takes it every morning at the firehouse – along with a piece of crostata Athena brought to the station, Eddie answers instinctively.
“Thanks, mi amor.”
Which wouldn’t be a problem if he’d used any other Spanish word, because Torres is the only one in the station who speaks fluent Spanish besides Eddie – Buck understands it after his years in Peru and Eddie is pretty sure he’d be able to speak it too and he would die to hear it – and the rest of the team is pretty clueless. Right now though, as a deeper silence dawns on the firehouse, Eddie realizes his mistake, and slowly lifts his gaze to assess the damage.
Seven heads – eight if he counts Buck’s – are turned towards him, eyes tired but expressive, and Eddie is sure he’s fucked up. Chim and Hen’s mouths hang open in shock, Ravi and Lucy look smug and unsurprised, Bobby’s eyebrows are about to leave his forehead while Lawrence and Torres try their best to look like they’re minding their own business, failing spectacularly.
Buck himself is taken aback, cheeks and neck flushed, mouth gaping at the air, but still morphing into a smile after a couple of seconds. “You’re welcome, babe.” He says, grinning into his mug before taking a sip, lowering himself on the chair next to his. Eddie’s heart fills and he can’t help but smile too, fondly, at the man he would do everything for – he’s still scared as fuck, because he hasn’t even come out to the squad and he has no idea how Bobby will take this. He reaches out for Buck’s hand, kissing his knuckles and then his palm because at this point, fuck it.
The firehouse erupts with noise after the minute of silence, voices overlapping.
“Can’t say I didn’t expect it.” Lucy comments, smirking and winking at Eddie.
Chim is going on about it as if his life depended on it, standing up from his chair and wandering about the loft like a madman – Eddie catches a How am I supposed to keep this a secret? and suppresses a laugh. It could be going way worse than this.
“I gotta text the group chat,” Ravi informs, typing on his phone and sending away what seems to be a short text in all caps followed by at least five stickers. Eddie checks for a notification, but the message never arrives. Shit, he thinks as Bobby checks his phone and writes out an answer he fails to see on the younger firefighter’s screen. The chat, called Idiots in love, is bursting with texts, GIFs, and stickers Eddie’s never seen before. He wonders who is in it since even Torres and Lawrence seem to have received the texts.
“When the hell did this happen?” Hen’s question stands out, above Chim’s rant and Lucy’s comment on a hickey Eddie thought he had concealed just fine.
Buck opens his mouth to answer but turns to Eddie anyway, checking with him – now that the secret is out, there’s really no use to hide it, and he mouths a sorry, but go on. “Almost two weeks ago-” Buck replies as soon as Eddie squeezes his hand three times, but he’s interrupted by Ravi.
“I’m gonna need the exact day.” He demands, lifting his gaze from the screen – Eddie can see an excel sheet open – with a determined look in his eyes.
“What- why?” Eddie asks, perplexed, feeling like a witness questioned about a crime he committed.
“The exact day, boys.” Bobby’s voice startles them as he appears in front of them– Eddie didn’t even realize he’d gone somewhere else. He has a stern look on his face as he holds a stack of papers in hand, and Eddie wonders if they’ve fucked this up, so he answers.
“June 26th.”
At that, Bobby sighs dramatically, Chim protests, Hen groans loudly, and Ravi raises his arms in victory as he gloats about a concerningly high amount of money. “I knew it!” He shouts, doing a little dance in his seat.
Eddie looks at Buck, hoping to find him as confused as he feels now, but the other man is laughing, seemingly understanding what’s going on. He shoots him a questioning look and Buck gets closer, pressing a kiss on his temple – Chim’s oh my god, are they gonna be like this the whole time? resonates through the station – and whispering to his ear.
“They were betting on us.” That makes sense, actually. “And something makes me think Ravi has won.”
Eddie turns to the younger man, who’s now standing, singing a high-pitched version of We Are The Champions, and Eddie’s not sure how to feel about it. Lucy was apparently tasked with background vocals, but she’s unable to deliver a single line without laughing, to the point that, around the beginning of the second chorus – Ravi is giving a full-on performance – she’s crying.
“Ok, probie, all right,” Hen intervenes with a smile on her face, “Stop showing off, we get it, you won.”
Ravi sits back down, a shameless and smug expression on his face. “First of all, I’m-” “Not a probie anymore.” The whole firehouse echoes and Ravi rolls his eyes so hard, that Eddie is afraid they’ll get stuck. “Second of all,” He adds, a smile still on his face. “I was the last one to enter the bet, and still, I won. That’s why I’m bragging.”
“Wrong. I was the last.”
Everyone turns to Lucy, who is still wiping her cheeks – she probably didn’t mean to say that so loud, but she proudly owns the moment with a shrug.
“Oh, shut up! You thought they were divorced when you first started here!” Ravi accuses her, pointing his finger toward the woman while the rest of the firehouse stares, amused. Eddie is happy he and Buck aren’t the focus anymore – even if it still feels like they are, given the topic of the conversation is still their relationship.
“Forgive me if I misjudged Buck’s words: he was talking about Eddie like he’d just died! And don’t say that when you did the exact same thing.” Lucy says from where she’s sitting. “Hen told me.”
“Come on! Really?” He tries to defend himself. “It was different.”
“It really wasn’t, Ravi.” Hen laughs. “At least our gaydars function perfectly, don’t you think?”
Lucy and Ravi nod, conceding the point to Hen and fist-bumping in a sign of peace. The two of them have become surprisingly close friends, helping one another in various situations – Lucy assisted Ravi in the planning of the first date with his now-boyfriend, and the man returned the favor by setting her up on a blind date with his roommate, Dalia. They’re pretty chaotic most of the time, but they get the work done. Apparently, these two knew he was gay even before he entertained the thought – he still hasn’t officially come out to the team yet, but he figured this reveal is enough for now.
“How long has this thing been going on?” Eddie asks, curious. He can admit he and Buck have been oblivious for a long time, but it looks like this is an old bet, and judging from Chim’s face this goes way back.
“September 2018.”
The sip of coffee Buck has just taken finds a place on the table after the man spits it out at Hen’s words. “What?” He’s visibly shocked, and even if Eddie is too – that’s a long-ass time for a bet – Buck’s face is too adorable to worry about anything else. His mouth hangs wide open, his eyes are comically big and blue, and the hand holding the cup is still mid-air – it’s the same face he makes when there’s a plot twist in a movie they’re watching and Eddie loves how dramatic he can get.
“You guys have been a pain in the ass for four years. FOUR YEARS.” Chim points at them angrily, though he has a proud glint behind his eyes – Eddie wonders what exactly had them question their relationship back in the day, but Chimney wastes no time and blurts it out the next second. “Buck was thirsting over you since day one and we all had to witness it! It was awful!”
Buck, who got up to grab a paper towel and fix the mess he made, freezes on the spot, a red blush spreading from his face down to his neck, under the uniform, reaching up to his ears. A few months ago, Eddie didn’t think it was possible for a human being to turn into a tomato, but since getting with Buck, he’s had enough proof that it’s more than likely – and if Eddie knows exactly how to make his boyfriend squirm like that in an entirely different context, that’s their business.
“I wasn’t,” Buck says from the kitchen counter, but he doesn’t sound so sure of himself, eyes to the ground when he makes his way back to the table and wipes the surface clean. “I was just being competitive.”
Hen fixes him with a pointed look as he sits back down next to Eddie and their hands find their way back to each other. “Try again.”
At that, Buck buries his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck – it’s a place he’s claimed as his and he’s hiding – or at least trying to – from the rest of the firehouse, but Eddie can see there’s a smile on his face. “Maybe I had a bit of a crush.”
“It turned out just fine.” Eddie places a kiss atop his head, blond curls brushing his face as he takes in the hint of peach shampoo in Buck’s hair. He almost stops in his tracks – it’s an old habit trying to kick in because even if denial and repression are long gone, they’re still leaving their trail of fear behind – but he remembers he’s allowed to want Buck for himself. He’s allowed to relish the feelings Buck has made him discover, to bask in the light of the brightest star to ever exist in this and other universes, to keep this thing close enough to protect it but out in the open anyway for everyone to see. It’s been a long time coming, and Eddie isn’t hiding anymore.
***
“I love you.” Buck’s admission later that night in bed is not new; it’s part of their ultimate truth Eddie doesn’t hesitate to complete and seal with a kiss. “Te quiero, mi vida.”
It hits him, the feeling of lightness that comes with this freedom.
It’s the comfortable dizziness after a few drinks on a Saturday night; it’s the pleasant loosening of the muscles during a hot shower; it’s the buzzing excitement before Christmas Day; it’s the overwhelming aftermath of a rollercoaster; it’s the pure satisfaction of a complete picture; it’s the sudden goosebumps to an old song. It’s the bubbling laugh at a shitty joke and the relieved cry after a long pain; it’s the cold breeze under a burning sun and the hot fire in the freezing snow. It’s the safe first breath and the thrill before the last one. It’s everything else he could ever imagine.
It seems to last forever, now, and he never wants to let go.