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Buck likes to think of himself as someone pretty smart, and fairly self-aware. He hasn’t always been, he spent the good part of his early 20s being immature and reckless in all the ways a person can be; but he’s changed since. He’s grown into someone caring, thoughtful and emotionally intelligent, if he says so himself.
He doesn’t have everything figured out, he’s not sure anyone truly does anyway, but he’s working on it. He knows what he wants out of his job; to one day grow into someone capable and worthy of wearing the captain’s helmet. He knows what he wants out of his family; to continue building and strengthening his bond with Maddie, and, if that’s in the cards, to someday create some kind of a relationship with his parents. He also knows that the group of friends he’s currently got, his team and family in every way except for blood, is one he wants to be with for the rest of his life.
And sure, romantically speaking, he’s a bit lost, but he’s got some idea of what he’s looking for in a partner; someone reliable, someone who won’t run, someone who’s willing to accept him in every way, shape and form. He’s still somewhat uncomfortable with receiving love, and care in general, but he figures it’s more of a self-esteem issue than anything else — which he’s working on! — and everything will probably fall into place when he’s found the right person. Probably.
He doesn’t know if all of that is the key to happiness, if there even is one; but, all things considered, he’s got a pretty solid base to start out with.
—
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“We saw each other just a few days ago, when you nearly cut off my engagement ring, remember?”
“It was stuck to your finger, what else was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, Evan. You’re the firefighter, you tell me.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he scoffs lightheartedly at the amusement in her tone, “it turned out pretty well in the end.”
“It sure did.”
Buck can hear the smile on his sister’s face all the way through the phone and it makes him beam in return. After everything she’s been through, he’s relieved to see her finally getting every ounce of happiness she deserves. Chimney is good to her and he loves her fiercely; they make a really great pair and it eases some of his anxiety, to know that she’ll be well taken care of.
“I’m really happy for you, Mads. How about I take you to lunch to celebrate? Just the two of us.”
“Your shift doesn’t end before ten tonight though, doesn’t it?”
“Eh, I’m sure Cap can survive an hour without me. You in?”
“Of course! I’d like that very much.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up before noon then.”
After hashing out some of the details, Buck hangs up and pockets his phone, joining the rest of the 118 in the gaming area where Hen is recounting her morning to Bobby and Chim.
“I’m telling you, my house hasn’t been this messy since we first got Denny.”
“You say that but the look on your face tells me you actually love it.”
“I do,” she admits fondly, pressing a hand to her heart. “They’re wonderful kids and it’s such a privilege to be able to do this.”
Bobby hums knowingly, smiling at her in the way he does when he’s so obviously proud of them and he can’t contain it.
“Ah, Eddie! How nice of you to join us, we thought you ended up getting sucked into that screen of yours.”
The man in question rolls his eyes at Chimney’s jab and takes a seat next to Buck.
“Hi,” Eddie whispers to him.
“Hey,” Buck says back, even though they were standing next to each other just minutes before they got distracted by their respective phones.
“Who were you talking to that had you so focused?”
“Marisol,” Eddie replies in a bout of honesty Chimney obviously hadn’t been expecting.
“Who?” he asks, not unkindly, just surprised.
“We got a call a few weeks back? Her brother was trying to help her with the renovations and he ended up stuck in the ceiling, remember?”
“Right,” Hen says, narrowing her eyes. “That’s when you exchanged numbers?”
“I don’t remember that,” Buck voices, turning to Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He doesn’t mean for it to come out so defensive, but he is a bit hurt that his best friend hadn’t mentioned it. He and Eddie don’t really hide anything from each other, but maybe this was special enough that Eddie didn’t want to mention it until he was sure he had something stable, and potentially serious. Something in his stomach twists sourly at the thought, but he shoves the feeling away.
“No, no. Uh— We met again a few days ago at the hardware store. She gave me a few tips for one of Chris’ projects and it turns out she handed me exactly what I was looking for.”
“You’re going on a date because she gave you the right tools?” Bobby asks with a somewhat disbelieving look.
“One, I’m not going on a date, and two, you’re the one who told me to look at the signs!”
“I did, but I thought you’d understand I meant you should—” he pauses, sending a brief look to Buck; one so fast he almost convinces himself he imagined it, “you should look around you, at what you already have.”
“What do you mean?”
Bobby looks like he’s about to reply when the alarm rings. As he makes his way to the engine, Buck could swear he hears him whisper “Saved by the bell.” and it adds to his confusion from the conversation. He makes a mental note to ask Eddie about it later and switches his attention to the call they’re on their way to respond to.
—
Buck remembers the pile-up. He remembers handing Mallory over to Lucy, her congratulating Chimney on the engagement, and then making his way back to the engine. Next thing he knows, he’s laying on top of the ambulance’s windshield.
He’s confused for all of two minutes before he realizes he’s hurt, and the pain takes over the disorientation. His nose hurts and he feels winded like he’s been body slammed. He sucks in a deep breath, his lungs protesting at the sudden intake of oxygen. He’s relieved when he takes a brief count of his injuries and finds no dizziness, he must not have been out for long.
Panic comes right after, when he finally remembers the bridge collapsing, and the ambulance nearly taking him out in the process. He needs to find the others, to make sure everyone’s alright. Fear sets him into motion. He blinks the dust out of his eyes and coughs out what got in his mouth before rising to his knees.
The first thing he sees is Hen, bleeding and unconscious in the driver’s seat. He calls out her name, banging on the glass to get her to wake up. Her eyes stay closed and he tries to keep his wits to himself as he radios in.
“118 report in, I need a headcount.”
“I’m grabbing the ropes!”
Buck heaves a sigh of relief at Ravi’s voice, he vaguely remembers seeing him standing on the other side of the ramp when they went down.
“I’m in the van,” Eddie groans. He sounds strained and worry spikes in Buck’s gut. “I’m pretty sure I broke a couple ribs. But this van— is about to get pancaked.”
“Okay— okay, uh, Eddie, we’re coming to you.”
He internally applauds himself for how steady he keeps his voice. You’d think he’d be used to life-threatening emergencies considering the life they all lead, but he’s only recently been starting to keep his emotions for after the danger has passed. He figures he’ll have time to properly freak out when all of this is over and he’s made sure everyone has gotten home with only minor injuries.
He lets himself catch his breath before asking for Chimney’s status.
“Han, come in.”
Buck’s heart threatens to leap out of his chest at how long it takes his friend to radio back, the seconds seeming to stretch into hours. He doesn’t have the time to worry about how hurt Chimney sounds when he does reply because Bobby hasn’t reported in.
“Captain Nash, still haven’t heard from you. What is your status?”
No reply.
“Bobby, come in,” Buck tries again, more urgently this time.
He lets a beat pass, then another, before defeatedly deciding he has to organize his priorities and moves to get to Hen. He vocalizes that he’s coming to her, hoping the words and his voice will get her to open her eyes. He slowly drags himself to the window where he easily slides in, noticing Chimney in a compromising position in the back.
“I’m alive but not great,” is all he says when Buck asks him how he’s doing.
Buck would usually push and ask for clarification but not now, Chim seems clear headed enough to take care of himself, so he reroutes all his focus to Hen and how still she looks. He waves a jar of smelling salts below her nose and feels himself relax ever so slightly when she flinches, her eyes snapping open to him.
“Hey, hey, hey, Hen— you with me?”
She looks hurt, but not enough to be too alarming. He feels guilty about how much he’s rushing it, checking his friends over; but Eddie’s still trapped in the van, and Bobby still hasn’t said a word — they’ll understand.
“I’m good, thank you,” she says, narrowing her eyes from the dust clouding her glasses and bringing a hand to Buck’s face. “You okay?”
He hadn’t even realized he was bleeding until she dabs a tissue to his cheeks and chin. He laughs weakly as she continues trying to clean him up, leave it to her to prioritize him when she’s also bleeding. When she pulls back, he lets her in on Chim’s situation and Bobby being MIA and, after checking in again and making sure she got the gist of what’s next, he asks Ravi for a line.
He climbs his way back up, ignoring the ache in his shoulders and chest from how hard he fell. He barely lets himself gather his strength before grabbing a rope and throwing it over, whispering a quick prayer to his captain before calling Ravi over.
After securing himself to the line, he hears Athena on the comms asking for Bobby and, swallowing the lump in his throat, he has to remind Hen that she’s the acting captain in his absence. He makes fast but steady work of getting the ambulance hooked and then hands Hen what she needs to get herself, Chim, and the patient to safe grounds before he rappels down to the van.
He’s pretty sure he’s running on mostly adrenaline and he’s only following the protocols because he’s spent so long engraving them in his brain while he was a probie. He’s also aware that he should probably be more worried about the blood he can now feel caking his face, but he’s too busy thinking about Eddie pinned in an unstable vehicle with the ambulance groaning above like it's threatening to drop on his head any second.
“Sending down the saw!”
“Okay— Eddie, you in there?”
He walks to the nearest window, frustrated with how unable he is to get a view of how things are going inside, but he quickly moves on. He can faintly hear Eddie panting, his breathing heavy and labored.
“Let me get these doors open, just shield your eyes.”
He uses the saws faster than he ever has before. There's a different kind of urgency to his movements, the way his fingers shake as he grips the handles; he can’t put his finger on why but something in the back of his mind is yelling at him to listen. He shakes it off on the little bump on the head he probably got from falling down so hard.
The saw buzzes loudly in his ears, he feels like it’s the only sound he can hear apart from his own heartbeat. As protected as he is from the sparks, the heat of them lingers, and the orange and yellow flying in front of his face remind him of a call from weeks ago — the convention center.
He pushes the thought away as soon as it pops up. He doesn't have time to think about previous calls, his team’s the one that needs rescuing and he can’t spare a second thinking about anyone else. He wrenches his focus back to the doors and puts the saw away before getting the first one opened.
A few things happen at the same time when he sees Eddie. First, he’s so relieved he inhales deeply enough to make him unsteady on his feet. And then it gets loud.
“You can be the hero, save lives, but don’t regret having your own. Last thing you want is to be at the end, holding nothing but regrets.”
“You don’t find it, son. You make it.”
“You live your whole life doing everything you’re supposed to… Until one day work stops, and everything finally comes into focus...”
“I meant you should look around you, at what you already have…”
The voices all get muddled into one, the words rising in volume until the sound becomes something else entirely — a kaleidoscope of memories, flashing images after images; the last one being of him falling asleep on Eddie’s couch.
He doesn't know why this has to happen now of all times; surely there's better ways for him to come to this life-changing realization, like maybe at home, in bed, where he’s safe and his family isn't in danger, and the man he loves isn't trapped under a ton of weight ready to crush him the moment he looks away.
Buck startles as Eddie’s voice brings him back to their current predicament. He shoves the whole thing away. He can’t do this now, not when Eddie’s hurt not two feet away from him and still very much in danger. He lets the panic come back to overwhelm everything else threatening to spill over. He can deal with panic for now.
“Sorry about this,” he says after coming back to himself.
Hearing Eddie screaming in pain is the worst thing he’s experienced in weeks and he desperately wishes there was anything he could do to immediately take it away. But he can’t, so he keeps his stance solid and when Eddie tumbles out of the van and into his arms, heaving like it’s taking everything he has not to collapse, he catches him and he doesn't move.
Buck lets him lean on his shoulder as long as he needs to, only stepping away from the van in case it decides to shatter now. He keeps his touch as gentle as possible as he feels Eddie’s ribs, confirming his earlier statement that he’d broken a few.
“Are you okay?”
“You’ve been pinned under there for some very long minutes and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”
“You don’t look so hot.”
Buck laughs from the absurdity of it, but he sobers up when Eddie winces in pain from the movement.
He realizes then, as he lets himself breathe for the first time in what feels like hours, as the recollection of everyone who’s been trying to make him see what was right there all along comes to hit him harder than any bridge or engine ever could, that he’s been an absolute idiot.
He allows himself to bask in the moment for a few more seconds, he vows to right all the wrongs he’s been ignoring as soon as he can, and then jumps back into motion. Bobby is still unaccounted for and he needs to make sure Hen and Chim got to safety.
The next couple minutes go by lightning fast. Buck helps Eddie get Hen down after she throws up. The van finally drops, the ambulance creaking as it spits Chimney out and Buck barely has the time to get him away when reinforcements finally arrive to take over. Getting Bobby out of the container goes even quicker with the help of the construction crew and, before he knows it, everyone’s crowding in different ambulances to get to the nearest hospital.
Buck climbs with Eddie, sitting next to him for the ride with the flimsy excuse that he’s here to keep him honest, knowing Eddie’s most likely to pretend he isn't hurt all that bad. They hit a single bump in the road and Buck instinctively clasps Eddie’s hand in his, clutching it tightly for the rest of the drive. He’s thankful when Eddie doesn't mention it, he’s too drained to come up with a good reason why he refuses to let go.
—
The waiting room is silent in the following hours.
Buck and Maddie sit together, huddled against each other for warmth and comfort. He notices Karen arriving early on and Athena redirecting her to where they're keeping Hen.
“So much for going out to lunch to celebrate,” Maddie says with a forced chuckle.
“I’ll take you another day,” Buck promises.
He wraps his arms around her even tighter. He wishes he could take all of her worry from her and assure her that everything will be alright, but he doesn't want to lie to her, not ever again.
“Maybe I should bubble wrap the entire team so you guys never get hurt again,” she sniffs, using her sleeve to wipe a few stray tears.
He doesn't reply, choosing to rub soothing circles on her back instead. She’s still shaking, and it breaks his heart that he can’t do anything more for her. He figures she’s grateful for his presence either way, just as he is for hers.
“You look troubled,” she says after a while.
“Well, I did fall face first onto a windshield,” he jokes, immediately wanting to take it back when her eyebrows pinch together.
“Good point, but that's not what I mean.”
“We can talk about it later, it’s nothing serious so don’t worry, okay?”
“We can talk about it now. Please.”
He realizes that she’s asking for a distraction, anything to get her mind off Chimney’s surgery. She looks pale, sick with worry, and he’s sure that if he looked at her nails, he’d see them jagged from how she’s been biting them off. He wouldn't say no to her even if he could.
“I, huh— I figured out a lot of things in a very short amount of time and I feel stupid for not— for not seeing everything sooner. It’s like I had all the pieces but I just couldn't make out the whole picture.”
Her expression turns soft, like she knows exactly what he’s talking about; which he probably does. She squeezes his hand and smiles at him in a way that brings tears to his eyes faster than he’s comfortable with.
“I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
And so he tells her everything.
—
Buck drives Eddie home after he gets discharged. First, he makes sure Maddie’s alright with him leaving and he only really agrees to go when she practically pushes him out of the waiting room. Athena promises she’ll stay with her until Chimney gets out of surgery and Buck presses one last kiss to her forehead before making his way out.
Eddie offers to drive because he’s a selfless idiot and Buck has to remind him he has three broken ribs so, no. Plus, it’s his jeep, he only left the hospital briefly to get it from the firehouse’s parking lot and take a quick shower there, and he’s happy to use that as another excuse to not let Eddie drive.
Buck’s already decided he won't confess today. The urgency has died down and, considering the day they just went through, he thinks they all need some time to process it.
So he doesn't say anything, he gets back to his own place and finds Kameron still there; which isn't surprising because that's where she was in the morning, but he had some hope that Connor would get his shit together and make up with his pregnant wife.
Buck’s more than pissed at him, he doesn't want to have to deal with their marital problems, he has more than enough on his plate as it is. He was looking forward to crashing in his bed after a long, hot shower and stewing in the realization that he’s head over heels for Eddie for a few hours before eventually falling asleep, and now he has to take care of Kameron on top of everything.
Which, okay, that sounds horrible, Kameron’s his friend and he’s happy to help, but he’s exhausted. The accident went on for maybe half an hour but he feels like he’s been stuck in this day for far longer. He’s drained to the bone and he genuinely wonders how he hasn't collapsed from exhaustion.
He doesn't have time to even bring up to Kameron the subject of her going back to her’s and Connor’s place because she goes into labor, and the doorbell rings at the same time. Great, just fucking great.
He screams at whoever's at the door to hold on and walks Kameron to the couch, calling 911 before running to open the door. He explains the situation to the dispatcher, which is escalating alarmingly fast, and gets towels and warm water to bring back to her, but then he bumps into someone and nearly sends everything flying.
“Buck?”
Natalia. Awesome, this day just keeps getting better.
“Your timing is just slightly off,” he says as a greeting and goes back to Kameron’s side, telling Natalia to stay on the line with 911 while he takes care of her.
“Shouldn't we leave that to the professionals?”
The question rings weirdly in Buck’s ears considering she knows he’s a firefighter and she should be more than aware that he’s capable of delivering babies, he has before, but he puts it on the intensity of the scene before her eyes and doesn't hold it against her.
“I am a professional,” is all he says before returning his full attention to his friend, who’s giving birth on his couch. Great.
—
Buck’s at the hospital for the second time in a single day; which he shouldn't be so upset about since it’s an everyday occurrence for him, but he’s reached the point of fatigue induced irritation, and he thinks he might spontaneously combust if he has to deal with another thing tonight.
He shares one more short but meaningful hug with Connor before he goes to make his way out; but then, he sees that Natalia’s still here. That’s fine. She somewhat helped deliver this baby, it’s understandable that she’d stay until she saw that everyone was okay.
“It’s weird. I’ve been there at the end of life so many times, but never the beginning.”
“So what’d you think?”
“That the beginning was way messier than the end,” she says with a chuckle.
He seems to realize all of a sudden that she's here, which means she came over to his loft for a reason. So he asks her why and he’s warmed by her apology; Natalia’s kind and beautiful, and he thinks it could've worked out if he wasn't already so in love with his best friend.
He sighs as he moves the two of them outside, settling on a bench near one of the exits. The next conversation might not be so pleasant, but it’s something he has to do anyway. He couldn't just go home without breaking things off, even though he really wants to.
“Look, Natalia,” he begins, turning the words over in his brain so they won’t come out meaner than he intends them to be, “the few dates we’ve been on were very nice. You’re wonderful and I’m sure this could've worked if we actually tried but—”
“Is this about Kameron?”
“No! No, God, no. I’m very happy I was able to do this for them but, as I told Connor, not my wife, not my baby. No, this— This is something else.”
“Oh.”
It stings to be the reason for her sadness but he shoulders on.
“I know it’s very cliché for a breakup speech, but I promise you that you haven't done anything wrong. Today's just made me realize a bunch of things I’ve been sitting on for a while now.”
“Oh my god, I didn't even ask, I didn't realize until now— I saw some of what happened on the news, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yes, I’m fine, everyone’s okay. Or, well, they will be. We got the best case scenario there.”
“That's good,” she says, and her relief is obvious, “I’m really glad to hear it.”
The stretch of silence that follows is awkward and, usually, Buck would do everything he can to turn it into something comfortable, but the only thing he can think of is his bed waiting for him in what’s going to be a silent and blissfully empty apartment for the first time in days.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened, what you’ve realized. I’m sure you’re still processing everything but— You’re a great person, Buck. I can’t say I’m not disappointed we can’t take this,” she gestures between the two of them, “further, but I am happy I got to meet you. So, uh, you have my number if you want to talk. Just because we're not dating doesn't mean we can’t be friends.”
Buck gives her a genuine smile. He's really glad this went the way it did, and he really appreciates how understanding and receptive she was. He might just take her up on that friendship offer.
—
Buck finds himself in front of his couch again.
It’s been a couple days since the bridge collapsed and everyone’s been recovering well enough from their injuries — well, everyone except for his couch.
He’s spent hours trying to salvage it, clicking on every google link he found on how to get those stains out, but he’s come to terms with the fact that it's ruined and there's nothing else he can do.
There's an odd sense of peace that comes with throwing it out. He feels impossibly lighter as he watches the charity truck drive it away. He mourns it, and how he’s gonna tell his mother, for half a minute before he moves on with his day.
He gets back to his loft and grabs his wallet, already thinking of a couple places he could hit to replace it. Or maybe he’ll go for something different entirely, like a bench or a couple of chairs, a swing, or maybe even bean bags.
He’s about to open the door when someone knocks on the other side.
Eddie looks better than he did the last time Buck’s seen him. Clean, for one, and he isn't holding an arm around his waist anymore. A healthy flush sits high on his cheeks and he looks well-rested, which relieves Buck of nearly all the pressure he’s had left since that day.
“Are you gonna let me in or are you just gonna stare at me?”
“Right! Sorry.”
He quickly steps aside and closes the door behind them, trying to get his heart to stop its erratic drum. He hopes that when he turns around, Eddie won’t notice how red his own cheeks probably look.
“Where's your couch?”
“Huh?” Buck laughs when he sees the empty spot Eddie’s looking at. “Turns out giving birth on any piece of furniture pretty much seals its death certificate.”
“Right,” Eddie says, turning back to him. “How’s Kameron doing?”
“Great, Connor texts me about a hundred pictures a day to let me know. But how are you? You look good. I mean— better, you look better than before.”
“I’m fine, just sore,” he chuckles, and if he notices Buck’s slipup, he doesn't mention it.
“I bet,” Buck hums knowingly.
A beat passes before Eddie moves to sit on the stairs. Some anxiety returns to Buck’s chest at the pained expression on his face. He wonders if Eddie downplayed just how well he was doing not to worry him and he’s about to voice the thought when Eddie starts talking.
“I thought I was gonna die in there. Again.”
“Eddie—”
“No, please, let me finish.”
Buck nods, his eyebrows tensed into a line. He flexes his hands by his sides, stopping himself from reaching out.
“It all happened so fast. One second, I’m checking the propane stove and the next, I’m trapped under so much weight I—” he swallows roughly, like he's willing himself to get the words out of his throat before they can vanish. “It took me back to the well, to all that pressure crushing me. I came back to myself pretty quickly, I realized I only broke a couple of ribs, and then I heard you on the radio and I just… relaxed.
“Hearing you, I knew immediately I’d be fine, but in the time it took you to get to me, I think I went through that whole ‘life flashes in front of your eyes’ bit. Which is funny because, by then, I’d already come to the conclusion that I wasn't gonna die. But, well, delayed reaction and all that. That's not the point, the point is that every— everything my brain was showing me, every image, you were there.”
He takes a break in his tirade to stand up, walking to Buck in soft but measured steps. Buck doesn't dare move an inch, he feels like the planet has stopped rotating and there's a star sized spotlight shining on just the two of them.
Eddie gets closer and, soon enough, Buck can smell his cologne, the scent of his aftershave. He can feel his body heat nearly melting into his own, like they're one of the same. He wouldn't be surprised if he lifted a hand to Eddie’s chest and found a matching heartbeat.
“Building a skateboard for Chris,” Eddie continues, looking up and around until Buck meets his gaze. It’s not a hard task, Buck doesn't think he could look anywhere else if he tried to. “Fixing the walls in my bedroom, taking me home from the hospital, falling asleep on my couch. You're— you're everywhere, at all times. I can't go a second without thinking about you.
“And then, I remembered what Bobby said that morning; about how he thought I’d understand I was supposed to look around instead of somewhere new. And then, the doors opened and there you were, covered in dust and blood, and God, Buck— The first time I thought I was gonna die, I wrote you into my will. I should’ve known then, but then I got shot and I only then told you about said will, and it already felt so big I— I think I chose not to see the other very obvious truth I had in front of me.”
“Eddie,” Buck’s voice is so quiet he fears he couldn't hear him, but then Eddie smiles at him, something so soft and familiar it stops the trembling in his hands.
“You can tell me I’m reading this, us, completely wrong but— You fell asleep on my couch,” he laughs and it's the most beautiful thing Buck's ever heard. “You fell asleep on my couch, and half of my closet is taken by your clothes, and I could recite your favorite movies by heart, and you're nearly everywhere I look and I miss you in every place you're not, and I love you. I love you, and I think you love me too.”
“I do, I do— God, I love you.”
His voice breaks at the last word but he can't bring himself to care; not when Eddie cups his jaw with both hands, like he’s something worth holding, and kisses him with so much fervor, and as much love as he put in all those words.
Buck thinks he could very much die in this moment. He thinks he wouldn't even blink if a meteor was to strike this building and they’d both go; tangled in one another in an eternal embrace, probably fated to end up as some mirror of a renaissance painting historians will study for centuries.
He pulls away from the gentleness of Eddie’s lips only out of necessity, not for air but because he needs to get his own speech out before it explodes out of his chest.
“Wait, wait— My turn.”
Eddie hums in question, his pupils blown wide as he looks at him with a tenderness Buck would never have thought himself deserving of.
“You got the beautiful and romantic confession out, it’s my turn now.”
“I think this,” he kisses him again, “is enough to let me know exactly how you feel.”
“But I had a whole thing prepared!”
“Oh?” Eddie smiles in a way Buck knows means he’s listening.
“Okay, uh— Natalia was here when Kameron gave birth, she was with us when we got to the hospital, but, by then, I already decided it wasn't gonna work out between us and I told her that immediately after we left. You’re not the only one who figured things out on that bridge.
“While I was getting those doors opened, I remembered— Sort of, everything? I remembered Red telling me not to live with any regrets, and Lev talking about things coming into focus, and Thomas— we answered a call a few years back, and his husband died and Thomas died with him when he realized he was gone, I remembered him telling me just moments before that this kind of love isn't something you find, it’s something you make. It’s what we’ve been doing all along, you and me, we’ve been making it.”
Buck brings his own hands to Eddie’s, still holding him with such care it threatens to overwhelm him.
“I saw you there and all I could think about was how much of an idiot I’ve been, because you’ve been here the entire time. I call your house ‘home’. I know the names of all of Chris’ teachers and I don’t even know half of my neighbors’, not even the ones on my floor. I look at you when something makes me laugh because I want to see if you're laughing too. I fell asleep on your couch,” he inhales deeply, his eyes misty with too many emotions to name. “I fell asleep on your couch.”
Eddie laughs then. Buck can see his own tears reflected in his eyes, the same feelings painted over his face.
The next kiss they share is a bit wet as they let the tears fall, and clumsy from how they're both shaking; it’s emotional in a way Buck’s only ever seen on television, but it’s the best kiss he’s ever had.
They still have a lot to figure out, but Buck has a feeling it’ll be alright; because they’ll be going through everything else together, and they have a pretty solid base to start with, if he does say so himself.