Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Eddie closes his eyes at night, he struggles to keep the dark thoughts from clouding his mind like a storm brewing. He can taste it, the fear slowly bubbling up in his chest and past moments flashing in his mind, quick, like lightning. He sees a helicopter crashing, feels the mud drowning him, hears the bullet rip through an open street in Los Angeles, and lands in his shoulder.

Then it gets worse, of course it does, because it’s Eddie, and then he sees Christopher soaked wet through to the bone, exhaustion clinging to his body. Eddie destroys a perfectly fine bedroom as his son cries for him in the hallway. He falls into a numbness he isn’t sure he’s fully shaken off yet. He sees Buck, lifeless and hanging dead above him.

He finds it hard to sleep on those nights.

Tonight is one of those nights.

He’s talked to Frank about it once, in general terms. How sometimes, Eddie will get a fitful night’s sleep, dreams haunting him for hours and dark smudges under his eyes to remind him of it the next day. Other times, Eddie will physically get up and walk away from his bed, practicing his breathing in the careful way that Bobby taught him. When he’s feeling like he can’t breathe and just needs to make the world small again, he’ll creep up to Christopher’s room and sit on the cold floor at the doorway, counting the light snores he hears from inside. He holds his knees close and scrubs his scalp as he rocks lightly.

He rarely turns to his phone for solace. If anything, he usually leaves it dutifully in its place on his bedside table, all but forgotten, but on this night, he grabs it and flicks it open. Muscle memory kicks in.

He hears the click as the call connects, worryingly fast for one in the morning.

“S’Eddie?” the other end slurs, and Eddie feels guilty and horrible and awful for roping someone else into his troubles, but he just can’t make himself selfless enough not to call in the first place.

“Y’re awake? D’you and Chris need help?” There’s a loud noise on the other end as if something fell off a table, and Eddie can just about hear the sound of rustling sheets and the heavy thud of feet landing on hardwood.

“No, no, Buck, we’re okay. Sorry, I shouldn’t have called so late, everything’s fine.” The thoughts in Eddie’s mind calm slightly, and his heart perks up in his chest, like a dog waiting for the front door to open; it thumps heavily, irritating and restless. Bu-uck. Bu-uck. Bu-uck.

There’s a brief pause, and Eddie hesitates, wondering whether Buck fell back asleep so quickly or if the call cut out. Eddie clears his throat and then hears Buck hum sleepily.

“If you need more milk for breakfast, I can bring it tomorrow. With gummy bears,” Buck drowsily murmurs, cutting in a yawn right at the end, and Eddie smiles, affection indulgently leaking from his every pore.

“Since when did milk and gummy bears constitute a balanced breakfast? You’d kick up the world’s biggest tantrum if I dared eat that junk in front of you,” Eddie can’t help the warmth that tugs at his gut, the air returning to his lungs like a storm passing by.

“No tantrums, I said eat y’r vegetables, Chris,” Buck drawls, and Eddie laughs.

Slowly, Eddie settles back on his bed, sitting down and letting himself fall backward, eyes tracing the ceiling and the walls. Seeing patterns that aren’t there. Letting the shadows move across the room. “Don’t worry, he always listens to his Buck.” If he crosses his eyes just enough, he can see the spot they missed on the wall, where the paint doesn’t fully cover the cracks Eddie made. That Buck helped patch back up.

Eddie hears Buck echo him, “his Buck” coming through the phone crystal clear, and Eddie’s heart trips a painful step.

His Buck.

It’s always dangerous to let his thoughts wander. It’s pointless, silly, a mess to think about it. So, instead, he’s carefully tucked away as Christopher’s Buck.

At the zoo, someone watches Christopher climb on Buck’s back, and Eddie can think, “Don’t worry, that’s his Buck.” At school, he writes out Buck’s full name neatly on the form for pick-ups and thinks, “No big deal, his Buck will pick Christopher up.”

Even at the bar, when it’s Buck’s turn to get a round of beer, he’s stalled and showing people around him something on his phone, and Chim makes a joke about Buck using Christopher’s cuteness to get to cut the line, and Eddie wants to tell everyone “See? See? He’s Christopher’s Buck, back off, he’s taken,” no matter that he isn’t Eddie’s.

And just like that, Eddie’s mind turns and twists, and he can see it so easily, maybe not that night at the bar but one night. Buck, in a tight shirt with his long legs leaning on a bar, and a woman with silky hair putting a hand on his chest, Buck’s wide smile catching her breath, and –

Buck harrumphs, or at least it sounds like it, as he shuffles around on his bed. “Eddie,” Buck brattily elongates his name, and then he sighs. “I knocked the lamp over. Is it mad at me?” Buck’s voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, and Eddie feels himself knocked by a wave of fondness that’s become synonymous whenever he thinks of Buck.

The faceless woman disappears from Eddie’s mind in between blinks, and then Eddie has a funny, fuzzy feeling floating in his body, moths bumbling around in his ribcage, as he imagines a different scenario. Buck, sleepy and worn out after a long shift, collapsed in Eddie’s bed for the night, waiting for him to finish tucking in Chris. Eddie will turn off the lights and creep into bed after him; they’ll curl up, and their hands will find one another. For warmth, in familiarity, a habit played out so many times –

Eddie is abruptly back in his bed, cold and lonely. “I think the lamp will forgive you. You’re easy to forgive, Buck.” He starts to count the marks on his ceiling and avoids thinking about Buck in his bed as much as he can.

“That’s just because you love me.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his chest, and he swallows the words down his throat rapidly before it pours out of him.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love –

“Eddie, why are my arms made of jelly?” Buck whines petulantly, and Eddie rubs at his chest absentmindedly. It doesn’t push down the words clawing out of him any easier.

The moonlight outside the window is the only witness to Eddie’s endearing smile. “What are you talking about? Your arms are just fine, Buck, don’t worry.”

Buck’s arms closed around Eddie’s torso, hugging him tight as they stretched out on a lazy Sunday morning in bed before the sun came in the window –

“Not jelly? Y’promise? If they’re jelly, Bobby won’t let me go to work. S’bad, Eddie. I won’t be able to lift things, like a hose. Or a car.”

“You can’t lift cars normally, Buck.”

Buck sounds affronted. “I think I can, Eddie.” Well, with the way Buck’s biceps have looked recently, Eddie really shouldn’t be surprised if he could. Not that he’s been looking.

Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “You’d pull your back out first, and then I’d be wheeling you around everywhere while you’re harassing everyone on clipboard duty.”

Buck mumbles something, and Eddie nearly misses it, the way Buck’s voice softly carries it into the phone. “I’d do it for you,” and Eddie closes his eyes as he exhales. He hears it, he hears the way Buck means it, “I’d do anything for you.” Because Buck would, he’s proven it time and again. Between mudslides and tsunamis and shootings and breakups and lawsuits and shitty parents, Buck will do anything for the people he cares about. It makes those moths float and flit around Eddie’s heart as it starts to crash and throb in his chest.

It’s funny how time cycles and catches up with you. Eddie suddenly can’t tell if he’s thirty-two years old or sixteen again, on the phone with someone who makes him feel breathless, right down to his toes. Makes him want to stay up all night just so he doesn’t have to say goodbye. Makes him want to plan a future, a bright and wonderful and ridiculous future.

He doesn’t know what to say, and the silence grows fast between them as Eddie searches for something to say back that’s normal, proportional to what Buck said.

I’d wheel you around, too, Buck. I’d make you the first cup of coffee in the morning, just the way you like it. I’d give you my last spare pair of clean socks and my child and the morning newspaper. I’ll pull out Chimney’s chair right before he goes to sit at lunch tomorrow to make you laugh. I’ll buy you milk for breakfast every time you mention we’re out of it. I’d bring you the moon and get down on one knee and plead in a universe I didn’t used to believe in to let us be together.

But he misses his chance, and Buck carries on more loudly now. “I’d wheel you around like a little old man.” Before Eddie can raise back an argument, Buck powers through. “I’d carry you, like Chris when he’s sleepy. Two Diaz’s, one for each arm.” Eddie can practically taste the smile in Buck’s mouth, and it makes him dizzy. “I’ll bring gummy bears tomorrow and milk. You need anything else?”

Just you.

“Nothing, Buck. Just you.”

Eddie hangs up when he hears Buck’s snore five minutes later.

The night doesn’t feel as long afterward. Eddie thinks he dreams about being held, and when he wakes up, it’s his arms hugging him.

When he hears the front door open hours later and watches Buck walk in, confused but with a grocery bag in hand, Eddie knows what the other man’s going to say before he says it. He knows it exactly, perfectly. He knows it with the security the same way he knows his heart will beat.

“Why did I have ‘gummy bears and milk’ on my phone’s reminders this morning? Did you ask for that?” Buck sets the bag on the kitchen counter and starts to unpack, as Eddie clutches the handle on his mug tightly to stop him from stepping in between Buck and the groceries and going here, my turn, unpack me and put me where you want me.

He feels woozy for a moment, thinking of Buck pulling him here and there, putting him carefully where he needs to go or wherever Buck wants him, and it makes his knuckles white and tense. Buck takes out a carton of milk.

Christopher twirls in and snatches the candy before Eddie can shake himself out of his thoughts. Buck’s closer and quicker and grabs Chris in one big arm. He forces Chris into a hug that nearly lifts him off the ground.

“What’s this, no hug? I wake up at ungodly hours to keep you fed, and this is the thanks I get?”

Christopher’s shrieks of joy fill up the home. Eddie drinks his coffee and feels his heart fold into Buck’s arms, too.

***

It begins with a fire.

Of course, it does. Of course, because life is cruel, and Eddie’s a jester for the world to point and laugh at. He might as well wear the bells and whistles and dance for everyone as they clap at this point because they’re at a house fire, and they got out the parents, the kids, the goddamn cat that scratched at Eddie’s arms the entire time. They were nearly done, nearly out, but then the second floor that he and Buck were sweeping decides to fall through right in front of Eddie, and he thinks his stomach reaches his throat as he lurches down.

Eddie braces for it, the uncomfortable feeling of nausea as his stomach rolls from the drop, the impact he’ll feel, and the following aches and bruises. The jokes about his knees cracking from old age that he’s already tired of Chimney crowing at him. But instead, he’s weightless. He feels nothing.

Did he die?

Eddie blinks but doesn’t feel any more angelic than a moment ago. Then again, maybe it takes a moment to give the guy in the sky a moment to judge him, figure out what end of the scale Eddie falls on, and tally it all up. He did volunteer for the next charity bake sale at Christopher’s school, so that’s got to add some credits somewhere, right? Then again, he only said yes because Buck and Chris signed them up for it, and they both looked at him with wide eyes and matching pouts, so maybe that doesn’t count?

Eddie blinks again and sees the smoke and flames lick at the walls of the house, and before his little foolish brain can think oh, hell, it is then, bummer, he looks down and sees he’s not on the floor anymore. Because he never fell, he’s somehow suspended above the ground. No, wait, am I an angel then?

“-ddie? Hey, Eddie, you good?”

Eddie’s great, he must have made it to a good place if he’s an angel, surely? Nice. He really wasn’t sure for a while there. Way to keep him guessing. Clearly, the charity bake sale tipped him over to the good side.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

And then the world starts to move again.

He should have known; of course, he’s not an angel, of course, he’s still the little court jester. Because he’s not dead, no, that would make too much sense; he’s being held aloft in Buck’s arms, and Eddie wants to yelp when he realizes. Buck has his thick arms wrapped around Eddie, they’re in the fucking bridal carry right now, and Eddie couldn’t be more embarrassed because his brain clearly went offline for an awfully long time, long enough for Buck to manage to get them down the stairs while he’s still carrying Eddie.

The only thought playing in Eddie’s brain is the wedding march song. That, and a dancing monkey spinning around with cymbals crashing. Eddie thinks he hears the monkey laughing.

It's dreadful, really, and Eddie wants to wail like the cat they pulled out of the house because he has to carry on with life now, having known this. He has to somehow get out of Buck’s arms and move on, pretend he didn’t feel Buck flex against him like he doesn’t want to map out Buck’s chest over and over again, preferably with his mouth, but he’s not picky, he’ll take what he can get. He truly understands how everyone on a call can’t help but play up an injury under Buck’s gaze because who wouldn’t, if given the chance?

Eddie wants to faint like a Victorian lady and then have Buck lean over and carry him again, and it’s stupid, it’s so dumb, because Eddie already knew, alright?

He knew there was something clearly heart-shaped around Buck for a while now, and he was dealing with it. He checked it off with a mark, “Do Not Open,” on the box of thoughts that had Buck in them in anything beyond platonic. Buck shirtless as he gets changed for a shift? Do Not Open. Buck smirking at Eddie as he loses yet another video game? Do Not Open. Buck being gentle with the kids who come tour the fire station? Do Not Open, You Idiot. Buck in the gym, sweating and groaning and stretching and wet? Do Not Fucking Open, What Did I Just Say?

So he has to be normal and get his shit together in less than two seconds because Buck’s got them outside now, Bobby’s confirming everyone’s out, and Hen’s coming over to check them over because Buck’s still carrying Eddie like a goddamn new bride.

“What happened?” Hen asks, coming over and placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder to get closer to them as Buck walks them around the firetruck. Eddie wants to snap his teeth, and the jester inside him just goes, “Mine, he is mine, get off, this is my time,” and then he’s gently, so gently, placed in the back of the ambulance, and Buck pulls back.

Eddie looks up, finally making eye contact with Buck, and sees the concern and concentration blazing in his best friend’s eyes. Do Not Open.

Buck steps closer, kneeling and placing a careful hand on Eddie’s knee. “Eddie? You okay?”

My brain short-circuited when you picked me up; it’s no big deal, don’t worry about it. I’m honestly surprised it didn’t happen before. It’s not like I’m desperately in love with you, right, that would be funny! Right. Right? Right!

“I’m fine, I think I tweaked my knee, but I’m good.” Eddie lies, coughing uncomfortably and clearing his throat. “Thanks for, you know, getting us out of there.” Eddie scratches his nose and then rubs the back of his neck. Buck’s hand retracts, and Eddie immediately misses the touch of it. He fights the urge to hiss for it back.

“Shit, sorry,” Buck hastily gets up and bumps into Hen. “Oh, sorry, uh, I’ll let you get to it,” Buck backs away slowly and then jumps when he hears Chimney call him over. “Right. Right, uh, I’ll be back.” He jogs away, and Eddie lets the breath out he hadn’t realized he was hoarding in his chest.

He’s right back to being a teenager and giddy getting attention from his crush, getting an excuse to touch them, and it feels ridiculous and exciting and like champagne in his stomach, and Eddie wants to trap the heat in his body from where it was shared with Buck, and keep the warmth alight inside himself. He wants to never forget what it was like to be held like that.

Eddie’s never had that happen before. Never been picked up and held like that with a partner. He’s always been the bigger one, the taller one, responsible for protecting and sheltering, but now he’s being carried around like it’s no problem. He gets it, completely gets it, how people talk about feeling safe and secure in their partner’s arms because, God, it felt fucking great. He wants to lean back next time, look at Buck, and get his attention aimed just at him, and Eddie can lean in and –

“Ahem.”

Eddie skitters and knocks his head on the side of the ambulance. “Fuck. Hi, Hen.”

“Hi, Eddie. Want me to check you over still, hotshot?”

The flush that makes its way to Eddie’s cheeks is something he’ll deny until the day he passes.

It’s not necessary, obviously, since Eddie lied about having any issues, but he nods his head anyway.

After Hen pokes and prods for a moment, Eddie pipes up. “I think my foot will be fine; it was probably just in the moment I felt it. Don’t worry about it.” There, smooth. He won’t have to take any time off work to recover or go to the hospital to get it checked out, and no one will have to know. Easy.

Hen raises an eyebrow. “I thought it was your knee?”

Eddie frowns. “My knee what?”

Hen’s other eyebrow climbs up her forehead, and Eddie realizes. “Oh yeah! My knee.” He nods fervently, patting his knee enthusiastically, and Hen sighs.

She pats his head a few times and then lets her hand settle on his shoulder. She shakes her head right as Bobby calls to them, walking over. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, and he’s dumb,” Hen says sympathetically and then backs away as Bobby steps up.

The spluttering comes out in full force in aborted phrases. “What? No, he – I mean, that’s just rude! You’re not, that’s, um. I’m not… What?”

Bobby watches with a furrow in his brow. His eyes bounce between Hen and Eddie for a moment before they settle on Hen decisively.

“Do I need to be worried right now?”

“No, I think the brain damage you’re seeing is pre-existing, nothing new here.” Hen snickers and walks away to the sound of Eddie stammering another round of scathing half-retorts.

“Excuse me! What, I – You’re ridiculous, please. Please! Brain damage? Wow, wow. Wow, Bobby, can you – I can’t. Wow. Please.”

The stare Bobby levels at Eddie helps him shut up.

“Right.” They look at one another. “Well then.” Bobby claps Eddie on the shoulder, who sighs so heavily he thinks the earth shook with it. Bobby softens and offers a smile. “You’ll be alright, kid.” The pat on the shoulder really does make Eddie feel like a sixteen-year-old who came home and got bullied by their older sister, while dad comes in just to ignore it.

And fuck, because even with the embarrassment of it and undoubtedly the unprofessionalism of his actions and an upcoming therapy session that Eddie knows he’s overdue, Eddie doesn’t care. He just really wants to be picked up by Buck again.

That’s how it begins.

***

“This is so embarrassing, oh God,” or Attempt Number 1.

It becomes A Problem. Just as Do Not Open stipulates, Eddie is meant to keep those thoughts buried nice and deep within himself and is not meant to open the can of worms that is wanting to kiss one Evan Buckley breathless and make him his legal husband. But when Eddie accidentally lets a thought out of the Do Not Open box, it manifests into A Problem, and this is one of those situations.

It becomes its own living, breathing creature, a gremlin lurking in the corner of Eddie’s mind, and he has a new goal battling for real estate in his brain. Originally, when it came to Buck, his daily goal was simply Do Not Open, don’t engage, be normal. Now, his gremlin mind is marching over to Buck at every moment’s notice and stopping his feet, going “Up. Now.” It’s expecting Buck to carry him, lift him, squeeze him close, and take all of Eddie’s weight and make him feel small and safe and loved.

It’s uncomfortable and makes Eddie feel sick because he doesn’t want to be pining after his best friend or lusting for him. Buck’s bigger and better than that, he should feel safe and comfortable around his best friend. But then Eddie gets a glimpse of Buck’s arms, the muscles rippling over mundane tasks, like putting away dishes, and Eddie gets lightheaded as the blood rushes through him as he thinks about Buck picking him up and putting him on the counter — gremlin mind.

It becomes A Real Bad Problem because it trickles from daydreams and idle thoughts to hints and gestures, little ideas and murmurs and nudges from the gremlin. What if you can make it happen again?

Eddie, the gremlin version of himself, likes the sound of that. Eddie, the sad little, pathetic man he is, wants to rip his hair out.

But still, he thinks about it almost daily. When he catches sight of Buck working out and thinks about how simply big Buck is, he has to shake his head and focus. Inventory, inventory with Ravi. He’s doing inventory with Ravi, and Ravi’s diligently reviewing the truck while talking about his plans that weekend. He’s going kayaking, and Eddie thinks that’s nice. Fun, adventurous. Not for him, really. Buck would love it; probably has done it before already. Hell, Buck probably gave Ravi the recommendation to do it. It wouldn’t be a surprise, the level of upper body strength it would take would make it clearly something Buck could do with confidence. He’d probably be super serious about the safety behind it and make them wear life jackets.

Buck in a life jacket. Buck in just a life jacket.

Eddie can imagine it, almost falling out of the kayak and Buck swooping in, catching him. His foot slips as they climb, and Buck leans over to support. There was a moment earlier today when Eddie was making a sandwich in the kitchen and bumped into Buck, who instinctively pushed a hand into Eddie’s hip. He made a funny noise, a sort of “woah there,” and chuckled, briefly pressing his hand into Eddie, burning him, before moving Eddie over and walking past.

Eddie stood there for an embarrassingly long moment. He thinks of the fire, the wailing cat he nearly mimicked. Sweat beads on Eddie’s forehead as he thinks about it, and he makes a hasty exit to the bathroom.

What if you can make it happen again?

It’s late one night when Eddie has that thought again. They’re together at Eddie’s, having just finished watching a movie over pizza and ice cream. It’s a Friday night, and Christopher’s managed to finally pass out on the couch after all but declaring he was wide awake only fifteen minutes earlier as Buck covered him with a blanket.

Buck looks over Chris’ head and exchanges a glance with Eddie on the other side. It says kids, what are you gonna do?

Eddie looks back and says I desperately want you.

Judging by how Buck lets out a shining grin, Eddie thinks he may not have perfectly communicated himself. The Frank that lives in Eddie’s mind, who is watching this whole thing with a raised eyebrow, would be writing this shit down as fast as possible in his little notepad.

Body cracking, Eddie moves to stand up, but Buck beats him to it. “You relax, I got this,” and then he lifts a sleeping Christopher into his arms and makes his way down the hallway, moseying along as if he didn’t take Eddie’s heart with him.

Slumping back on the couch, Eddie counts his breathing and rubs at his temples, closing his eyes so he doesn’t let the image fade. He wants it tattooed on his brain, the sight of Buck putting their kid to bed, of him being so strong and capable and using his body for love, each and every time. It makes something hiccup in Eddie’s chest, and he wants to rip open his ribs and let Buck take anything he wants.

By the time Buck returns, having likely put Christopher to work brushing his teeth and gently turning down the bed in a way that Chris doesn’t ask for anymore, but they both know he likes, Eddie’s barely any more put together. His tiny bit of resolve shatters when the couch dips down dangerously close to Eddie’s hip. Eddie keeps his eyes closed, but he can still sense Buck in every way that matters. “Come on, old man, this is my bed.” Eddie cracks a smile but doesn’t budge. “Eddie. Eddie.” Buck’s breath skates across Eddie’s face, and Eddie does everything he can not to lean into the air in front of him, to place himself right where he imagines Buck begins. “Fine, be like that.”

Buck’s warmth disappears, his weight on the couch lifting off, and Eddie immediately opens his eyes in protest. He sees Buck leave and return to the living room, blankets in his arms, and he dumps them unceremoniously on Eddie.

“Hey, watch it!” Eddie splutters, digging his head out of the pile to poke out the top, though making no effort to move the rest of his body. He sees the smile fighting to make its way across Buck’s face, and Eddie feels the greedy little part of himself preen at being able to do that.

“Don’t make me drag you out of there,” Buck makes the mistake of putting his hands on his hips, so Eddie loses a respectable eleven seconds staring at them and enjoying the way they wrap around the belt on his jeans, wide capable palms, his long fingers with callouses he knows are there.

As soon as Eddie collects himself to look as though he wasn’t daydreaming about Buck, while imaginary Frank scribbles this all urgently on a notepad, Eddie hears the thought in his head echo loudly.

What if you can make it happen again?

What did Buck say before? “Two Diaz’s, one for each arm.”

It vibrates all around Eddie, an annoying buzzing in his head. He makes a snap decision.

“Make me.”

No one has sounded sadder, or more like a lame teenager, than Eddie makes himself at that moment, but it’s out now, and no matter how desperately he wishes he could take it back and stuff it in that Do Not Open box, he seems to have cracked out, he still said it.

Buck’s eyes widen, and his mouth drops open a fraction of an inch. It’s important that Eddie tracks that movement.

The words seem like a jumble as they come out of Buck. “Uh, what? You don’t mean, wait, what do you mean?”

Eddie can’t just say, “Kidding! I’m kidding! I don’t want to be carried in your arms!” so he just keeps going. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“You carried Christopher to bed; I’m pretty sure I’m not much more work than him.”

“Eddie, you’re a grown adult firefighter, and your son is nine years old.”

“Your point?”

“You weigh a ton, Eddie.”

Eddie’s a grown adult firefighter – he does not pout.

“Oh, don’t pout at me, Eddie, you know it’s true.” Buck waves a hand away, and he taps his fingers anxiously on his hip as he shuffles on the spot. He squints as he looks away and then sighs.

“Fine, you don’t weigh a ton.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m still not carrying you to bed, though.” Buck’s face deepens with a blush, and Eddie’s brain temporarily whites out at the thought. It takes the Frank that sits in his mind to shake him out of it.

“Why?”

“You’ll never let me live it down. You’ll tell Chimney, and then I’m hearing nothing except for everyone telling me to carry them around.”

“What? Come on, that won’t happen. It’s not that big a deal, aren’t you the one saying I need to take it easy more often?”

Eddie’s nonchalance is unparalleled. Why does Chris say he’s not cool? He’s smooth as butter, nothing to see here, just a casual man asking his best friend to carry him in his arms (and cherish him until their final days, if that’s possible), nothing weird about that.

God, he can hear Christopher’s voice in his head right now. “This is so sad, dad.” Frank would probably nod his head and write that down, too.

Buck raises an eyebrow and seems to hesitate, his fist clenching at his side, and Eddie feels his stomach spin and spin, and he dares to think, in a tiny little hopeful voice, “Maybe? Maybe he’s going to?” Oh God, Eddie hasn’t really mentally prepared for this beyond just hoping this would occur, and he briefly has a moment of panic because did he put on deodorant after his shower? Shit, he should have put on cologne. Does his breath smell after the garlic naan they had for dinner? Does Buck’s? God, is it really sad that Eddie wants to be able to know that answer more than anything else?

“Dad?”

Two heads swivel around to the bathroom door at the end of the hall.

“Christopher?”

Silence.

Buck turns to look at Eddie, who gets up from the couch and takes a step into the hallway.

“Buddy?”

“I think I broke something.”

Pause.

“I think I broke something expensive.”

The snort escapes Buck, and Eddie glares cuttingly at him.

Buck shrugs. “If it’s the toilet, then shotgun, not cleaning it.”

“What the fu-”

“Dad!”

***

“Does reverse psychology even work anymore,” or Attempt Number 2.

Look, Eddie’s trying, alright?

He’s a widowed father to an incredibly wonderful kid who’s borderline too smart for his own good; he’s a capable firefighter and medic and a doting grandson who wants to take care of his abuela. He pays his bills, taxes, and car payments. He makes time for family, friends, and even the goddamn PTA charity bake sales. His credit score is decent; he mows his lawn when he needs to, and he waves at the neighbors on his way to work.

He’s a fully functioning adult. He can be serious and stubborn and steadfast.

And then you put him around one Evan Buckley, and he starts twirling his hair and kicking his feet in the air because maybe he wants to be taken care of for one goddamn minute, is that too much to ask for?

But look, he’s trying, okay?

He tries at Bobby and Athena’s barbeque when he’s catching up with May and listening sympathetically to her issues with her professor, who accused her of cheating when she was reaching for her water bottle during an exam. He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of nodding at the right time, but he’s helplessly distracted. He hopes Hen next to him can keep May engaged enough for Eddie to effectively tap out of their conversation for a moment.

Because across the yard, tucked away in the corner with shade from the oak trees and sunshine just barely trickling through, is Buck. Buck is being attacked by tiny baby Jee-Yun, with Christopher, Denny, and Harry running around and egging her on between yells and guffaws.  

Eddie’s just one man. He doesn’t know how to separate the reality in front of him from his dreams, where he and Buck and Chris are in Eddie’s garden playing in the sprinklers and laughing, and Eddie pulls a soaking wet, grinning Buck close to him to a chorus of Christopher’s dry heaving as Eddie closes the gap and –

Buck can hold Jee-Yun in one arm, and she’s barely bigger than the bicep she’s being carried on. Eddie thinks he feels sweat run down his back.

“… -ick do you think Buck has?” Hen says, and Eddie turns his head so fast he hears his neck crack.

Hen’s eyebrow is raised a disappointed look on her face. The heat in Eddie’s cheeks makes itself immediately known, and he tries to look nonchalant as he returns to the conversation.

“Gross, Hen, what the hell?” May asks, her face furrowed and disgusted.

“Sorry, May, you’re an adult now, and this is for science,” Hen absently explains, her eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, who abruptly looks away and squints over towards the house, tracking as Maddie and Chimney compete to see who can eat their hamburger quicker. Maddie is so clearly winning that Chimney looks close to tears.

Eddie deliberately ignores the stare that’s burning a hole in the side of his head. He makes it to counting up to five before May sighs.

“I’m going to see if Lucy will sneak me a beer and let you both get back to… this.” May nods and walks over to Lucy, rummaging around the cooler.

The silence gets thick immediately. Eddie scratches his arm and rocks back onto the balls of his feet.

“So,” Eddie draws out, “nice weather.”

“We live in LA, Eddie.”

“Right.”

Don’t break, Diaz. She knows nothing.

“I know.”

What the fuck? No, she doesn’t, the liar. I swear, she –

“Just stop.”

Can you read my fucking mind?

“Anyone with half a brain can tell you’re pining over Buck. Get over yourself, Casanova,” Hen dismisses Eddie’s crazed stare and takes a bite of her potato salad. Karen walks over and drops off a glass of lemonade with a kiss on Hen’s cheek as she resumes her conversation with Athena and Bobby at a nearby table.

For a second, Eddie considers playing dumb, but this is Hen. She is typically the one who has the brain cell on A Shift. He deflates and sighs.

“Yeah, okay. God, is it that obvious?” Eddie chuckles humorlessly and kind of wishes he had something stronger to knock back. Before he can spiral too much, Hen explains.

“Like I said, for anyone with half a brain. Which means that Buck doesn’t know, and neither does Chim. Literally everyone else sees it, though.”

“Guess you’re keeping a secret from your best friend, huh?” Eddie mocks.

“You wanna talk about secrets and best friends?” Damn her.

“Are you comparing how I feel about Buck to how you feel about Chim? Because that’s not very appropriate, Mrs. Wilson.”

“I am a gay, happily married woman, Diaz.”

“Yeah, she is!”

“Thanks, babe!”

Karen smiles and then turns back to Athena and Bobby. Bobby hides his smirk in Athena’s shoulder, who is rolling her eyes playfully at everyone’s shenanigans. Somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder, he knows he can hear Buck’s laughter ring loudly, bright like the sun, and it takes everything in Eddie’s control not to turn around and pay it dear attention.

Hen rests a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder and pats him gently. “Trust me, that boy over there has been head over heels for you since the first day he met you.” Eddie’s heart pounds uncomfortably, loudly, happy, vivid, and brilliant in his chest. He rubs at his chest, and Hen’s smile turns soft. “You should tell him, Eddie.”

Eddie knows he should. But there’s that part of him, that’s really the entirety of him, that’s terrified. Because what if Buck loves Eddie but not the right way? What if he loves Eddie, but Eddie just loves him more, way too much, deeper, so thoroughly that Buck leaves? Eddie knows, deep in his core, a truth that he wakes up to every day, the reason he doesn’t tell Buck how he feels.

Buck can do so much better.

Someone, probably someday soon, will come along and sweep Buck up and treat him better. Better than an argument in a grocery store, a destroyed bedroom, or the silent treatment. Because if Eddie tells Buck, and even a small fraction of Buck feels the same, or he says, “Yes, let’s do this,” and then Buck calls it off, they break up, Eddie knows in his fucking bones he’ll never be the same.

Frank likes to say that Eddie disaster plans too frequently, but typically it’s warranted. He told himself, all those years ago, when he put Buck in his will, when he slept in Buck’s bed during quarantine, when he shook Buck’s hand that night they removed a bomb from a guy’s leg, he told himself, “Enough, this is enough.” And it is, any part of Buck is enough, but Eddie’s selfish enough to want it all.

And he’ll destroy everything good in his life with it.

Eddie’s spared from saying anything when he hears Christopher call for him on the other side of the yard. Hen smiles and gives Eddie a shove.

“Think about it, Diaz.”

Jokes on you, Hen. All he does is think about it.

Rolling back his shoulders, Eddie moves down the yard and walks into a daydream he’s had countless times before.

There’s Buck, reclining on the grass with Jee-Yun defiantly standing on top of him, leaning all her weight on him and laughing loudly, a cheesy grin on her face that perfectly matches Buck’s. Christopher and Denny are both attached to Buck’s legs, one each, trying to pull him as Harry tries to lift one of Buck’s arms. They are all miserably failing and are huffing with exertion. Christopher perks up when he sees Eddie approach, and he drops Buck’s leg with a thud as he walks over to him.

“Hey!” Buck ejects from the floor, but Denny just reaches down to grab the fallen leg and pull with all his might. Eddie thinks he can hear Karen snort from over here, as well as Athena’s head shake.

“Dad, can you help us beat Buck? He says that he’s stronger than all three of us, but if you’re on our side, we can take him!” Chris excitedly tugs at Eddie’s hand, who’s slow to keep up.

“Wait… what are we doing?” Eddie shakes his head out of the slow, sluggish fog that’s descended around his head. He isn’t looking directly at Buck because he caught a flash of Buck’s shirt having rucked up around his abs while lying on the ground, and Eddie’s not meant to stare. Or bite or lick, at least not in public. He’s a gentleman. 

“I told you! Beating Buck,” Chris moves around and reclaims the leg from Denny, both pulling with all their might as Jee-Yun watches, giggling as Buck picks her up in one hand and lightly throws her in the air. “Buck bet we wouldn’t be able to lift him an inch off the ground.” They all groan with effort, and Buck doesn’t move except to laugh with Jee-Yun. Eddie’s heart pulls achingly at the image. It’s not an unfamiliar thought, the one that says “- baby, Buck with a baby, give Buck a baby, can I give Buck a baby? Buck and a baby,” on a loop constantly.

Moving towards the boys, Eddie finally makes eye contact with Buck. It feels like the first breath of air after being held underwater for so long.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than Buck,” Eddie ignores Buck’s gasp, patting both Chris and Denny on their shoulders, and leans over to Harry to whisper conspiratorially. “But I don’t want to embarrass him by proving that in front of everyone, so we should let him and his fragile ego down gently, boys,” Eddie says mildly, and they protest even as they lower Buck’s arm and legs.

None of them are louder in their complaints than Buck, who talks over everyone, including Jee-Yun, who has resorted to humming to herself in the middle of the storm around her, as Buck talks in indignant rage.

“Excuse me? The way I remember it, Edmundo, I was lifting 15 pounds more than you last week!” At Eddie’s smirk, Buck sits up and grabs Jee-Yun before she has a chance to fly off him, and he settles her on his shoulders, though he immediately winces as she digs curious hands into his hair and pulls. The passing thought of “same” runs through Eddie’s head before he shoves into the Do Not Open box, its rightful place.

“You don’t remember? I weigh a ton, so there’s no way you’ll be able to lift me. And since I weigh a ton, I’m used to carrying around my extra weight, right? Ergo: I’m stronger.” Eddie gestures to himself to highlight the point, but it’s lost some of its pull when Buck snorts in response.

“Ergo? What are you, seventy?” Buck snickers, and Chris, Harry, and Denny copy. Eddie feels a headache build.

“What are you, seven?” Eddie retorts and is just winding up for more when Christopher interrupts.

“You should try to pick him up anyway, Dad! And then Buck can lift you. See who’s stronger,” Chris suggests, and Denny nods his head so fast his hair whips up and down. Harry gives an encouraging thumbs up, and Eddie thinks they just want to see the two of them wrestle so they can join, but it’s honestly giving Eddie ideas.

Eddie pretends to think about it. “I mean, we’d make Buck look like a fool with the way he’d lose, but if he says he’s fine with it, then I guess I could take him.” He sees the look in Buck’s eye, and he is feeling warm. Very warm. The way Buck’s staring at him, head cocked to the side, Jee-Yun’s tiny feet braced on his chest, and his hands absent-mindedly resting on them, it makes him irresistible, and Eddie wants to reach over and claim, take. He’s looking at Eddie as if he is the most important person on this planet, and it makes Eddie want to howl and shake and bark.

Just when Eddie feels like he’s boiling and tipping over, he sees Buck open his mouth, and Eddie’s sure his ears are blocked because he swears he hears Buck go, “You’re on,” but then they hear a call for Buck, Bobby yelling for him to help with the ribs they have going, and Eddie feels the tension snap like a rubber band as they both jolt at the reminder of where they are. Buck looks around, almost dazed, and Eddie feels it, too.

The moment’s gone, and Buck gets up, depositing Jee-Yun into Eddie’s arms and letting their hands brush as he does. Harry, Chris, and Denny whine for a moment before they run off to pursue some other insane idea. He hears Hen shout something, then sees Chim race after the boys, and Eddie lets Jee-Yun rest on his chest as Buck walks to Bobby.

“Bobby’s got the worst timing, huh?”

Eddie turns, jumping in place. He spots Maddie beside him, though when she has a chance to make it over here, he doesn’t know. “Oh. Why, what’s happening?”

Maddie stares, then sighs, taking Jee-Yun from Eddie, potentially muttering, “Men, I swear,” under her breath, but then she’s walking over the garden and whispering frantically to Hen and Karen, who both turn to look at Eddie. Groaning internally, Eddie walks over to the other side by the cooler to grab a beer and stands beside Ravi for a moment.

“Uh, so, you wanna talk about that hot mess over there that was you and Buck, or –” Ravi gestures around to the space where they just were and takes a sip of his drink with raised eyebrows. Eddie ironically laughs with a small sneer, and they stand in silence for a moment.

Then, when Ravi turns to look over at Chim screaming as he’s being dragged on the floor by Denny and Chris, Eddie's hand reaches over and slaps Ravi’s drink from his grip, spilling it on the floor and all over Ravi.

“What the fuck?” Ravi spits out and then looks instantly apologetic as Athena turns to glare at him. “Uh, excuse my language.”

Lucy doubled over, clutching at her stomach as she laughed, and collapsed onto Albert beside her.

Eddie takes a petulant sip of his beer, and he turns unsubtly to catch a glimpse of Buck. Buck’s already looking over, and he smiles sweetly and waves.

Everything in Eddie lights up, and he waves back, smiling. Even with Ravi pretending to throw up in the background and Chim’s shrieks and Hen yelling at their boys and Athena catching May with beer and Bobby patiently waiting for Buck to pay attention, Eddie smiles.

He’s trying.

***

“It’s always Ravi’s fault. Always.” Attempt Number 3.

The second they get back to the station, Chim groans and headbutts into the fridge, rustling around for something to eat. Bobby gently shoves him out of the way and gets enough food together to keep them happy, namely by heating every type of leftover they have. Hen collapses at the kitchen island, and Ravi rubs his face as he takes off towards the showers.

Eddie elects for the couch, all but falling into it, and Buck follows him. They just finished a shift from hell, seven long calls all back-to-back, and it’s not even a full moon. No one said the Q-word and Chim hasn’t accidentally jinxed them, so Eddie doesn’t get it. It’s too late to call Christopher and say goodnight. Buck’s been paired up with Ravi all day since Lucy’s taking vacation right now and Eddie isn’t pouting, but he’s not happy. He just wants to curl up with Buck’s voice, lulling him to sleep and pretending he doesn’t have any responsibilities for the moment.

Buck seems to be on board because he stretches out on the couch beside Eddie and folds his arms on his chest, long legs kicked in front of him, and he’s a welcome dream. Though Eddie’s eyes are drooping with fatigue, he can still admire the pretty slope of Buck’s nose, the shade of his birthmark that makes Eddie go a little lightheaded. Buck readjusts for a moment, letting out a long sigh, and Eddie has a moment to think fuck it, and he lets his body slump over and collides with Buck. He braces for Buck to laugh or shove him back, but his shoulder only tenses briefly before relaxing. Their breathing starts to sync after a few cycles. There’s just one long line of heat and comfort that connects them, and the idea that this is right, and how it's always meant to be, rings loudly like an alarm in Eddie’s head. He can easily picture sleeping like this. Over and over again. And again and again and again and –

Bobby’s voice trickles over, a warning to them both to head over to the bunks instead of risking a crick in their necks by falling asleep on the couch, but Eddie pretends he doesn’t hear anything. The sound of plates and silverware clattering keeps him disturbed enough to stay awake, but Buck’s warmth has him slipping dangerously into sleep. Eventually, he hears the other’s footsteps come closer, and Eddie decides to let his eyes stay shut. He barely realized they had even closed this whole time.

“Looks like the baby needs his nap,” Hen teases, and even though Eddie can’t see anything, he can practically feel Chim’s grin from here. Eddie wants to frown, but he also doesn’t want to move an inch unless he’s forcibly made to. Buck’s shoulder is the perfect pillow, and his arm is the perfect warmth, and Eddie will start cursing if necessary.

“Says the woman who fell face first onto the kitchen table,” Buck whips back in an agitated whisper, and Eddie thinks there, take that, and he shoves back the childish impulse to stick his tongue at Hen in response.

“Children,” Bobby chides, but then Chim can’t help himself.

“Come on, Cap, Eddie’s practically drooling on Buck! Just let us take a quick picture,” there’s a clatter then, and Eddie doesn’t move, but it’s a close thing because he feels Buck lean slightly over, and he hears an “Ah ha!” and Chim going “Hey!” and Eddie can easily put it together: Chim gets out his phone, Buck snatches said phone, Hen sighs, Bobby rubs temple, and finally, Eddie is spared.

“If you’ve all had enough, let’s hit the bunks while we can. Buck, we left some food for you, Eddie, and Ravi if you want any later. You two, you’ve been fed and watered. Get out of here,” Bobby’s voice is directly in front of them now, and Eddie can picture him: hands on hips, a stern look on his face, and a tiny smile as he shoos at Hen and Chim and their puppy dog eyes. “There will be time to make fun of Eddie when we’re all awake again, I promise.”

“How do we deal with Sleeping Beauty?” Eddie’s going to beg Maddie to take the most unflattering picture of Chimney known to God and paste it on every square inch of this station, he swears –

“We’re fine,” Buck says, and then there’s a brief silence. Like, completely silent. Which, usually at this time of night, wouldn’t be unusual, but leave these five individuals in a room with at least one conscious, and it should never be silent.

“What? Guys, come on, it’s no big deal,” Buck continues, seemingly very nonchalant about the whole thing, and Eddie sends a quick prayer up that the others will just shrug and leave them alone, and Eddie can enjoy this for at least five more minutes before Buck nudges him off and makes them go to sleep. Separately. Sigh.

Hen must take pity on him because she finally breaks the now very awkward silence. “What are you going to do, stay here all night?” Bobby hums disapprovingly.

“I’ll wake him up later, don’t worry.”

“It’s only going to be more difficult later; we’ve all seen how crabby he can be when he’s woken up,” What the fuck? Rude, “Here, I can –“ Whatever Hen was going to do doesn’t happen because Buck lets out a strangled noise, and it goes weirdly silent again.

Eddie kind of wants to open his eyes so he can see what they’re doing, but then Buck flexes and Eddie sighs internally, turning his face more firmly into Buck’s shoulder, where it meets his neck.

Chim claps his hands and elongates an “okay” that lasts an uncomfortably long stretch of time, and Eddie can feel Buck sigh. “I guess we can probably just carry him,” and Eddie takes back every mean thought he just had and wants to kiss Chimney because, yes, that. Genius. Why didn’t Eddie think of that?

Buck’s breath stutters oddly in his chest, and Hen chuckles.

“Shut up,” Buck hisses, but Eddie thinks that’s a little mean, it’s not like Hen did anything, but Eddie is feeling a little closer to the land of the unconscious, and he’s hoping they hurry this along, so he can be in Buck’s arms and can pretend for a little while longer that this is all normal behavior before they fall asleep.

If Eddie latches his arms around Buck, would Buck just roll with it and maybe push two cots together, and they could go to bed like that? Oh, Eddie’s getting ideas. The gremlin inside him would be so proud.

“Need a hand?” Bobby asks, but Buck must shake his head because Bobby just hums again, and then Eddie can hear the other two wish Buck goodnight and the sound of footsteps retreating. Bobby calls over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Buck,” and Eddie’s stomach swoops because it’s going to happen, and he needs to keep his cool because Eddie wants to grin, but that’ll make things a little obvious at this point.

It happens slowly, Buck creeping out of Eddie’s touch and putting a careful hand out to steady him. He swoops to hold Eddie’s head gently in a big palm, and he sets Eddie back straight against the couch. Eddie thinks he’s due an Oscar anytime because he’s fooling everyone with his acting skills right now, he’s sure of it. He feels Buck put a hand on his knee, and Eddie’s glad he’s not looking directly at the image happening right now because he imagines it would be like looking right at the sun; it would be blinding and seared into his head forever.

Eddie braces his core and waits, with bated breath, for the moment when Buck will reach down and pick Eddie up, and he can just roll into Buck’s strong, pretty body, and it’ll be so good, and if he’s lucky when Buck puts him down, maybe he’ll be affectionate because of the exhaustion, and he’ll push back Eddie’s hair, and Eddie wants to sigh a little dreamily at the idea of it.

Eddie feels the air between them shift slightly and –

A cacophony of plates collapses behind them in the kitchen, the sound shattering into an otherwise perfect moment. Buck pulls back entirely, and Eddie can feel him stand up to see what happened.

“Oh, my bad. Did I wake anyone up?” Ravi, that rat bastard. Eddie can hear the smirk on the guy.

Fucking probie.

There’s no way around it, and Eddie frowns as he opens his eyes. He sees Buck standing close in front of him, looking at Ravi, though as if he senses it, his gaze snaps down. His face softens as he looks at Eddie, and he crouches down again.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Ready to go to an actual bed?” Buck smiles and tilts his head to the side, and Eddie wants to scream into a pillow or chew on glass because it’s not fair. Buck can’t just be there, existing, in the low lights of the station that make him golden and sweet and kind and caring and all things lovely. Eddie will start biting.

Instead, he nods dumbly, and Buck stretches, lowering a hand down for Eddie to take. Eddie stares for a moment before taking it and letting Buck take his weight, just for a second. He closes his eyes as Buck lets go and pretends it’s just because he’s tired.

Buck walks over to Ravi to inspect the damage, and Eddie turns to watch, but Ravi’s not helping with the mess. He’s smirking at Eddie, eyebrow raised, and Eddie glares back. He didn’t think he’d have it in him to hold a grudge and enact a form of revenge back, but clearly, Eddie didn’t know this side of the guy.

Ten minutes and one cleaned-up kitchen later, Eddie gets into his own cot, tucks himself in with a blanket, and only thinks about murdering Ravi but doesn’t follow through.

Goddamn probie. He’s gonna fit in so well here.

***

“I don’t really want to speak about it while sober, thanks.” Attempt Number 4.

If Eddie’s slightly slurring his words, it’s nothing noticeable, he’s sure. It’s loud, kinda, and everyone’s basically talking over each other anyway, so it’s fine. Totally fine.

“I said, you’re so strong, Buck! I bet you could lift me, like, if I needed you to. If I was in trouble. Buck, if I was in trouble, I’d call you to pick me up.” Eddie thinks that makes perfect sense and nods intently when Buck makes eye contact with him.

There’s something like whispering happening beside him, but Eddie’s not really bothered by it. He wants to keep looking at Buck’s pretty eyes. They’re so pretty. Really blue. Great shade of blue. The perfect shade. Eddie’s favorite color.

“I like your eyes, Buck.” Someone starts choking nearby, but there’s a bunch of other first responders around, so it’s fine. Eddie rests a hand over Buck’s, who looks down at it. “The best. The best shade of blue. Great job, Buck.”

Eddie’s been thinking about that since they got to the bar, after the first round, and then the second, and then when they got shots, and then again when round three just got here, and Eddie’s feeling less stressed now about being the right level of normal, and he’s just having a great time with his friends. His friends, including Buck. Buck, with his strong arms, award-winning smile, hair that curls perfectly on his head, and uniform that fits so well recently, it’s a treat going into work. Eddie smiles with a sigh.

“Stop recording,” Eddie thinks Karen is saying that, but he can’t be sure. It’s a hiss, a whisper on the other side of him, so he doesn’t pay it much attention.

“You’ll have to literally rip my arms off my body, Karen,” it definitely sounds like Chimney there, and Maddie’s listening because Eddie can hear her laugh like chimes. Eddie’s not so bothered about what they’re all talking about and squeezes Buck’s hand before patting it.

“Great eyes.”

“Hey, Eddie, what’s with the compliments?” Hen asks, and Buck cuts her a glance sharply. She just raises a hand in defense, and Karen pats her back.

“I’m just helping Buck out,” Eddie waves a hand around the man in question and lets it fall somewhere between them, just by chance catching on Buck’s thigh. It’s not like Eddie has to move it straight away, so it just stays there for a bit. It’s normal.

“Helping him with what, Eddie?” Maddie leans in, and Chim’s phone falls to the floor. He shrieks as he dives under the table to grab it, and Karen reaches down and grabs it first, stuffing it in her bag. Chim complains, and Maddie elbows him.

“Huh?” Eddie forgot the question. “Oh! I’m a wingman. Wing-manning Buck. I’m making him look good.” Pause. “Look even better,” Eddie corrects himself and takes a sip from his sugary margarita that Karen got them to try together. Buck’s got a beer in front of him that’s barely been touched. Eddie thinks that Buck makes drinking from it look obscene in the best way possible.

Buck interrupts clearly and directly. “I don’t want to talk to anyone here,” he clarifies.

“Well, excuse us for inviting you,” Maddie jokes and Chimney smiles at her like she hung the moon for her corny joke, and Eddie gets that. He does. Like when Buck makes Chris groan at a terrible joke, Eddie wants to store that feeling in his chest in a bottle that he can open when he’s alone.

He’s really glad that when Bobby and Athena agreed to host a sleepover for Harry, Denny, and Christopher that Chimney and Maddie took Carla up on her offer to babysit Jee-Yun sometime because it’s meant that they all get to spend some time together that they haven’t been afforded in months. Because Eddie, for all he whines and jokes, really does love these people and doesn’t want to think about how else this night could have gone.

Him, home alone.

Buck, out at a bar.

No, it’s better when they’re together.

“Okay, let me clarify. I don’t want to talk to anyone here to hook up,” Buck follows up, and Maddie waggles her eyebrows at him. He throws a lime wedge in her direction, and Eddie wants to be helpful, so he takes the strawberry from his drink and hands it to Buck. Eddie definitely hears Hen mutter “Oh my god” under her breath that time, but who cares because Buck is smiling at Eddie, and he takes a big bite from it.

And also, Buck’s comment doesn’t go unchecked by Eddie.

“That’s good, you shouldn’t be hooking up with people,” Eddie agrees, and Chim throws his hands up in a time-out pose.

“Alright, hold up, didn’t you just say you were helping wingman Buck?” Chim argues.

Eddie shrugs and sips from his drink. Chimney drops his head into his hands.

Maddie grins devilishly and sips her cocktail with a nod to somewhere behind them. “Well, looks like someone got the message.”

And then, some woman has her hand on Buck’s shoulder, and Eddie sees red.

Not in relation to her nails or hair, thank God it’s not another redhead, just generally, all around, Eddie sees red.

He sizes her up, and she’s pretty normal, all things considered. She has long brown hair with curls in it, and green eyes, and a sparkly dress. She looks tall even without the heels, but she’s got her hand on Buck like that’s normal for her, and Eddie hates her.

Buck tenses visibly and turns in his seat. Eddie wants to snap at the hand and put his own on Buck, but he settles when Buck’s movement causes her hand to slip off him.

“Hey there. Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt your night,” then don’t, “but I just noticed you across the way and wanted to introduce myself. I’m Brooke,” she holds out a hand confidently and smiles at Buck. She has stupid dimples, and Eddie wants to roll his eyes. What a lame move. Making your intentions fully known and not getting to know Buck first, with all his beautiful qualities, so you can secretly pine over him? It couldn’t be Eddie.

“Uh, Buck,” he shakes the hand and then gestures around at their table, “And these are my friends. Maddie, my sister, and her partner Chimney. Karen and her wife, Hen. And my – and, uh, and Eddie,” Buck clears out his throat and takes a sip.

Eddie tilts his head when the woman turns to smile at everyone, and when she lands on him, he raises an eyebrow. She double-takes and falters slightly before recovering.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” she waves and then turns back to Buck. “You still nursing that beer or interested in another?” She jerks a thumb at the bar, and Eddie feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

He shoves his drink over to Buck, bumping into his hand on the table. Buck finally turns away from her to look over at Eddie.

Sweetly, Eddie offers his drink. “Here, Buck, you can have mine if you like.” Eddie thinks he’s subtle in how he cuts a glance to the woman still standing there, in between Eddie and Buck, but there’s a snort to his left and Karen’s slapping Hen’s arm, and Eddie would look over, but he’s kinda tied up right now in important business.

When the silence lingers a little, Chimney, the loudmouth that he is, can’t help but intervene. “Our buddy Eddie here was just talking up Buck, weren’t you, man?” Maddie starts actively shoving Chimney now, but he’s talking with a grin. “Eddie, what was it you were saying? I can’t remember.” Buck tries to interrupt and move the conversation elsewhere, but Eddie’s happy to review his main points.

Loudly, Eddie talks over Buck, who sighs beside him and lets his head fall into his hands. “His muscles, Chim. He’s picking me up with his muscles. I mean, he could. He’s very strong,” Eddie turns away from Chimney to talk directly to the woman. “Buck’s a firefighter, he is very strong and doesn’t have jelly arms.” Eddie pats Buck’s bicep, letting his hand rest briefly before he goes to take another sip of his drink.

“Jelly arms?”

“We’re all firefighters, Eddie.”

“Not me.”

“Me neither.”

“Why would you even ask Eddie to clarify? Haven’t you realized the state he’s in?”

Brooke clearly doesn’t get the message because she tries one last time. “I can tell,” she eyes Buck’s chest and Buck flushes. Eddie narrows his eyes at it and tries to will it away by sheer force and determination.

“Buck tried to dig me up by hand when I got trapped underneath a mudslide.”

Silence.

There, try to take him now. You know you can’t.

Bless Buck because he finally lets her down. “I’m sorry, I’m all set here, but thank you.” He lifts his beer, and then Eddie pushes his margarita even closer. And Buck puts down his beer to lift the margarita glass instead and takes a sip. Eddie preens, and Buck raises it to the woman. “I hope you have a great night.”

Eddie hopes she trips, but not like she actually falls and hurts herself, she just stumbles a little. So she thinks about her actions a little more.

There’s a brief lull as she smiles and leaves, and Eddie and Buck turn back to the rest of the table. Eddie deliberately doesn’t make much eye contact with anyone else.

“Eddie, that’s how you wingman? No wonder you and Buck are single.” Chimney shakes his head, and the others all exchange looks. Buck blushes deeper, and Maddie shares a look with Hen. Eddie feels like he’s missing something.

“Hey, I talked Buck up. It's not my fault she’s just not that interesting. He can do better.”

He can do Eddie. No, wait, he means that, as in, Eddie’s better. Eddie’s the better choice than her because she has no idea how amazing Buck is and just wants him for his looks. Eddie likes Buck’s looks, but that’s because underneath it, he has a heart of gold and loyalty as unbreakable as a diamond, and Buck being twice as pretty is a nice bonus on top of everything else.

Though to be truthful, Buck can do Eddie if he wants. Whenever, wherever.

Buck smiles at Eddie, and it is so sweet Eddie wants to cut his mouth open on it.

There’s a moment where Buck and Eddie just look at one another, and you couldn’t pay Eddie to tell you what was going on around them at that moment because he just sees pretty eyes and a honeyed smile, and he thinks he sighs, but he isn’t sure.

But then, Buck frowns for a moment. “Jelly arms?”

Eddie waves his hand, “You had to be there,” and that’s enough to get everyone going again on some topic or another. Buck lingers, staring at Eddie, before laughing and slinging an arm around his chair.

So what if Eddie leans back? It’s his chair, that’s normal.

And so what if later that evening, Eddie’s legs get tangled as he walks outside into the cool air after he’s said goodbye to everyone? And if Buck just so happens to be there, calling a cab and taking Eddie back to his place to crash, his arms coming around to catch Eddie when he stumbles, what’s wrong with that?

And surely, there’s nothing wrong with Eddie getting his fists in Buck’s jacket and hanging on. His feet got jumbled up, that’s all.

“Woah,” Buck says, his arms coming around Eddie’s back and resting along his waist. Buck makes Eddie feel so tiny sometimes, in a way he never has before. Eddie loves it. He thinks he must purr like a cat when he feels it.

“Sorry, my bad,” Eddie mumbles contentedly, comfortable in the position he’s in and already falling asleep on Buck, who just laughs loudly.

“I may be strong, but I don’t think I can carry you in this position,” Buck tries to rearrange Eddie in his arms, but Eddie perks up instantly, his head shooting up from where he momentarily let it fall on Buck’s nice, very good chest.

“Carry me?”

To think, all it took was numerous shots, mixed drinks, and poorly designated driver options for Eddie’s dream to finally come true. He isn’t sure how he can make this a recurring feature in their daily lives, but he’ll figure it out.

There’s this little smirk on Buck’s face that makes Eddie’s stomach want to roll and fumble, and huh, look at that, Eddie guesses he has jelly legs.

Buck’s about to say something, and Eddie’s mentally preparing for anything but hoping for the best for once when a car comes screeching beside them and pulls to a stop. It’s when Buck looks down and leans into the window, asking for the guy’s name and nodding, that Eddie realizes they’ve been interrupted yet again. God, Eddie even ‘accidentally’ planned this so Ravi wasn’t able to come, but still, they get fucking interrupted.

Maybe Eddie pouts as Buck pours him into the car. And maybe he pouts as Buck tucks him into bed back at Buck's apartment while Buck goes to make up the couch for himself. But then, Buck comes back upstairs and whispers, “Goodnight, Eddie,” and pats his hair as he goes to turn the light off, and Eddie decides maybe he doesn’t need to pout.

He’ll leave that for the hangover tomorrow morning.

***

“… So that’s it, I guess.”

Frank stares at him. He’s been scratching at that stupid notebook of his during the entire session, barely saying anything as Eddie word vomits to his heart’s content. And it’s pretty out of character for Eddie, he knows, but he’s also been feeling like the worst person alive, especially after the whole bar incident, and he needs to talk to someone who isn’t a coworker or family so he can fix this.

“Right.”

Eddie pointedly stares at Frank and raises an eyebrow.

“Right. So. Can you, I don’t know, share profound wisdom so I can resolve this? Or, I don’t know, cryptically tell me what to do?” Eddie asks, and Frank clicks his pen and makes another note. Eddie feels like he’s constantly losing whenever that happens, whenever he says something normal, and then Frank’s writing it down as if critiquing Eddie. Eddie wonders if he could bring in a notebook sometime, too, to make his own little notes, but that would probably throw Frank into a new notepad.

“So, from what I’ve gathered, you’ve attempted on four different occasions to initiate touch from Buck.” Eddie frowns but nods. “You say, in your own words, the first time was “so embarrassing,” and after that, you used “reverse psychology” to, in some way, trick Buck into touching you. After that, it was “Ravi’s fault” you were interrupted, and then – ”

“I don’t really want to speak about it while sober, thanks.”

“Yes, that’s the exact quote I jotted down, too.”

“Well, as long as you got the direct quote, then that’s all that matters.”

Frank pauses. Eddie grimaces.

“Sorry.”

Frank smiles very briefly before closing his notepad entirely. Eddie would like to think that’s a win, but then, it’s usually not good news when Frank closes it during their sessions. It’s more of a “Good God, what’s wrong with this man” type of action.

“No need, you’re in a vulnerable position and sharing quite a bit today. That’s good.”

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, I’m telling a trauma specialist that I keep trying to cop a feel of my best friend, real vulnerable stuff. God,” Eddie drops his head down and rubs at his face. “I’m the worst type of person I know.”

Frank speaks gently like he’s working with a spooked cat. “Wanting physical contact from someone you trust deeply, after what you’ve been through, does not make you a bad person. You’ve been under a lot of circumstances where your body has been used against your wishes, and now you’re in a place where your body is recovering, and you’re able to ask for the things you want. That’s vulnerable and progress if you ask me.”

There’s a lump in Eddie’s throat, and he swallows it down. “But I’m doing it without Buck knowing. That’s not okay.”

“What does Buck not know? He knows you trust him; you seek him out for comfort in other ways. You trust him, with yourself and Christopher. He’s got your back. You think he wouldn’t want to do this for you?”

There’s the underlying tension in Eddie, he feels it in his shoulders, in the way he grits his teeth together. “You know what I mean.”

“Clearly, I don’t.”

“Fine! He doesn’t know I want more. I want more than just how friends would touch me; I want him to touch me and have me in a way that no one else will get from him. And he’s my best friend, and I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. And it’s not fair because, yeah, I could ask for any of these things, but I’ll always know it means more to me than it will to him. It’ll always be unfair to him because he’s giving me something he doesn’t even know.”

Eddie takes a deep breath in and wonders how Frank can get so under his skin sometimes. To dig in and in and in until the dam bursts.

“What if he knew?”

The cords in Eddie’s neck really need a rest, and yet, Eddie still snaps over to look at Frank incredulously.

“Knew? Buck can’t know,” and Eddie’s not panicking at the mere thought of it, nope, but he could, easily. He feels himself shake his head, and he’s itching to check his watch because he thinks he needs to leave right around now.

“Why can’t Buck know?”

Eddie levels Frank with a "Are you serious" look.

“How would you feel if it was the other way around? What if Buck felt this way about you and was talking about himself like this? Calling himself names and kicking himself for seeking comfort from you.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because Buck’s… he’s Buck. He deserves all that stuff, the good stuff. He deserves someone like that.”

“And you don’t?”

“What?”

“You’re saying it’s different between you and Buck because he deserves comfort, but by that logic, you don’t. Do you believe that?”

Slowly, Eddie thinks about it. “No.” Frank dips his head down, the universal sign of keep going. “No, I guess I deserve it too. Just – ” Eddie’s careful of his next words. “Buck deserves more. Everything. He’s the best person I know, up there with Christopher. But I can’t give him what he deserves.”

The damn notebook opens up again and click, Frank’s got his pen scribbling away again.

“Interesting.”

The growl is kept at bay in Eddie’s throat, but just barely. “What?”

“It’s interesting how you value Buck so highly in your life. You have an intimate connection so deeply attuned to one another, both at work and in your personal lives, and yet, you believe you can’t fulfill that aspect in his life. I imagine you already do.”

The frown on Eddie’s face deepens, and his mouth parts, but nothing comes out. No rebuttal, no refusal this time. Frank smiles, and it’s so clearly a got him expression Eddie wants to punch something, hypothetically, that is. They worked through anger last month pretty well.

“But of course, just the same that Buck can’t know this about you, I wonder if there are things you don’t know about Buck’s own feelings. You both tend to follow similar habits, most likely from spending so much quality time together. Funny, that, isn’t it?” Frank checks his watch and puts away his notebook. “Looks like we’re out of time for this week, Eddie.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “Are you serious? You’re just gonna drop that out there for me to deal with by myself?”

Frank clasps his hands together in his lap. “I believe this can be considered homework; the next time you want to touch Buck, tell him why first.” Before Eddie can say anything, Frank continues, “Hopefully, that wasn’t too cryptic of me.” Eddie feels bewildered, though he nods as he gets up.

Walking over to the door, Frank calls over one last word. “Oh, and Eddie?” He turns. “You deserve love just as much as Buck.” Frank turns back around, and Eddie’s left with a sheen in his eyes he hastily wipes away.

“Same time next week, doc?”

“I’ll be here with profound wisdom at the ready.”

***

“I love you.”

Eddie gets home and leans against the door, letting his weight fall backward as his eyes close. Therapy was a lot, and even though he’s feeling wrung out, it feels like the good kind. He wants to fall into bed, but he also wants to hug Chris, have dinner with the team, and get his cheeks pinched by Abuela. He wants Buck, God, he wants –

“Hey, how are you doing?” Buck comes through the kitchen and stands leaning in the hallway. He’s got on a blue shirt that makes his eyes look unreal, and his arms look bitable. Eddie wants to do things, but he has homework to do first.

Pushing from the door, Eddie walks over. “Where’s Chris?” They have this down to a science, when Eddie has therapy, and Chris needs to be picked up, Buck covers the school run and sends Carla home early. They realized that after therapy, Eddie needed a place he could come into and not worry about being rude if he needed to bypass all human interaction and slump into the couch. There’s usually a plan for dinner in the works, and Chris gets his homework finished, or reads, or plays games, or does something with Buck, so they all give Eddie time to work out any kinks he might still be playing within his head.

“He’s got a geography project he’s working on with kids in his class; they’re on a video call. Though, from the looks of it, they’re probably going to start in on a game any minute,” Buck chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “Wanna talk about anything?”

So gentle. Buck’s always so gentle and soft, especially on these days. Even on these days, God, Eddie knows he’s no walk in the park. He handles Eddie like he’s precious, special. And after today and Frank’s little encouragement, Eddie wonders if he could actually deserve it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They sit down in the kitchen, and Eddie twiddles his thumbs, and Buck gets him a glass of water the roles are kind of reversed since the last time Eddie remembers them doing something like this, and he thinks that Frank would like the symbolism of that a little too much.

“In therapy today, Frank made me consider a couple of things. Things about myself and what I want.” Buck nods, his expression so serious and focused that Eddie feels lightheaded looking right at him. He looks down instead and fidgets with his glass. “I’ve been… confused. Recently. Well, not confused, I just,” Eddie breaks off with a frustrated sigh. He scrubs a hand through his hair and rubs his eyes. “I’ve been reaching out for more, I don’t know, contact? Frank says it’s for comfort, and I guess it is, but to me, it’s just a touch thing. I like,” Eddie swallows. “I’ve liked being touched by people I trust, and I’m trying to let myself allow that.”

Eddie finally looks up and sees Buck’s eyes are filled with water. He frowns and flinches in self-consciousness, but Buck throws out a hand to him and shakes it vigorously.

“No! No, I’m fine, I promise. I’m just, God, Eddie, I’m so happy for you. You deserve that, you know? You deserve to have things you like again.” Buck wipes a hand over his face, and Eddie just stares at him as the words echo in his head.

You deserve love.

“You know, Frank gave me homework.” Eddie summons up the courage to keep going from God knows where within him. “Frank said I have to tell people why I want to touch them the next time it happens.”

“Okay,” Buck nods, “And you just did, which is great.”

“No, no. No, Buck, you’re different. With you,” Eddie clears his throat and lets his heart fall out of his chest and onto the kitchen counter, bloody and beating. “I want to touch you and never stop. I want to be with you and be the one you want more than anyone else. I’ve been such an idiot about it because I’ve been finding all these dumb excuses to touch you, and it’s never enough, Buck, because I’m selfish and can’t help myself, and you’re everything – ”

If Eddie’s brain had ever white-outed before, it was nothing compared to this moment. He feels like his brain did a hard reset or even crashed out, and he’s so thrown by this possibility that he genuinely didn’t prepare for it because Buck?

Buck’s kissing him.

Buck’s got his hands clenched in Eddie’s shirt, and he’s pulling him up and closer that Eddie doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and he’s freaking out because he didn’t think this was something he could actually have. He thought maybe Buck would think about it, get back to him, maybe try a date or two, but Buck’s hands slip, and cradle Eddie’s waist, and that gets him back in the room.

An awfully high-pitched, embarrassing sound escapes Eddie when Buck squeezes his hands around him, but he can’t focus on it too much because he has to get his hands on Buck, he has to, so he cups Buck’s face and lets his fingertips trace into his hairline, and he kisses back.

It becomes a pull and push, and Eddie can’t figure out where he ends, and Buck begins, and whose hands are whose, so he just admits defeat and lets himself feel it all. He lets his hands crawl over and mark Buck’s body, trace at his birthmark, his ears, his chin, and chest and arms, and he cycles back. He feels where firm muscle loosens into softer plains, and he can’t stop the patterns he traces.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Eddie hasn’t felt so properly kissed in so long. He can feel himself needing air, but he can’t bear to let go, so Buck does the laborious task for them. He pulls away, breathing heavily, and then Buck comes back in and kisses Eddie once, twice, and rests his forehead against him.

Eddie wants to say something, anything, to see how Buck feels, but right as he opens his mouth, Buck kisses him again, a deep kiss that steals Eddie’s breath and pulls him away. “I’ve been dying to have you in my arms ever since the shooting.”

It takes a moment for Eddie to recalibrate, but he thinks he follows. “Because I nearly died?”

Buck shudders, and Eddie feels it. “Because I had you in my arms, and I was terrified I never would again.”

Oh, Eddie thinks. Oh.

He loves me.

Eddie can’t let that go without another deep kiss, so his hands grip Buck’s hair, and he pulls Buck down. There’s smiling and teeth clashing, but neither mind. It’s infectious, and then they’re both laughing, and Eddie goes breathless at the way Buck’s smile lines around his eyes make him look so lovely.

Buck’s toying at Eddie’s clothes, fidgeting, and he lets his broad hands spread across Eddie’s back and lets his blue eyes bore into Eddie’s as he finally looks up. “No one makes me happier than you, Eddie. No one makes me feel more loved than you.”

And maybe Eddie’s never felt this way before, and maybe it’s a little overwhelming to have everything he denied himself for so long stood right in arms reach, and maybe he tears up and holds Buck closer to him and shuts his eyes.

I love you.

And what’s Buck’s response? He picks Eddie right up, there and then, and Eddie clings to him with all his limbs as Buck grins and kisses him again and again.

They’re there for hours or seconds, neither could say, but it lasts not long enough when they’re interrupted by the sound of a door down the hallway slamming open, and they both immediately freeze in place.

“Buck?”

They separate slowly from one another’s faces, Buck’s hand tightening around Eddie’s thighs where they’re wrapped around his hips. Eddie lets his brain reset, and then he falls back to the floor on shaky feet. Buck’s hands are steady on Eddie’s waist.

“Yeah, buddy?” Buck calls back.

There’s a pause, and Eddie swears Christopher can hear his heartbeat from across the house.

“Can we make spaghetti for dinner?”

They both sigh, and Eddie knocks his forehead into Buck’s chest, who rumbles a short laugh.

“Yeah, of course we can. Just tell me when you’re hungry.”

Buck runs a sweet hand through Eddie’s hair and lets it rest on the back of his neck.

“Thanks!” Christopher must go to shut the door again, but Buck calls back out again before he can.

“Hey, your dad’s here too, if you wanna come, say hi after you finish your group project.”

“I know. I thought he might be too busy kissing you to respond. Hi, Dad!”

The door closes then, and Eddie lets out a high-pitched dying whale noise from deep inside.

“There, there,” Buck pats at Eddie’s back. “It’s alright.” Buck leans down and swoops to kiss Eddie’s nose, and okay. Maybe Buck’s got a point there. Eddie strains his neck up, silently demanding more, and Buck obliges happily. Again, and again, and again.

***

Later, after dinner with spaghetti and Chris’ snorting laughter and Eddie clutching at Buck’s hand under the table, they watch a movie, and it’s almost as if nothing’s changed. Eddie realizes with a start that, really, nothing has. They’re still Eddie-Chris-Buck, just as they always will be. Buck will find a weird fact and share it with Christopher, who will shine with glee and repeat it back, and Eddie will interrupt, and they’ll both turn to him with the same pleading eyes, and he’ll crack and ask them to explain what’s going on.

It's the exact kind of life Eddie always wanted. And he gets to have it.

When Eddie closes his eyes that night, he lets his cheek fall on Buck’s chest, and he feels the breath in Buck’s lungs, smooth and steady, like the waves at the beach on a day filled with sunshine. He tugs firmly, wraps an arm around Buck’s waist, and smiles like sweetness when Buck murmurs something in his sleep, turning into the embrace and wrapping his long arms around Eddie.

Eddie falls asleep soundly.