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1 - Hen
The party’s in full swing when Hen finally decides to take a breather and sinks into a chair to drink some water. Her cheeks are red from laughing so much and her mind’s a little foggy from all the drinks she and Karen have fed each other over the past three hours, but she’s happy and her heart’s so full of love that she might burst from it soon.
Athena grins when Hen finishes her water in ten large gulps. Passing her a napkin for the water spilling down her lips, she says amusedly, “You certainly seem to be having fun.”
“You could say that.” Hen laughs as she takes the napkin. “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together like this. All of us, I mean.”
Athena hums, smiling. “I know what you mean.”
“I’m just so happy that everything’s back to normal. I mean, Chim’s back and Eddie’s almost back, and Buck finally stopped terrorizing poor Ravi.”
“Speaking of Buck.” Athena grins as she lifts her wine glass and points at the makeshift dance floor with it, “I think he’s found someone new to terrorize.”
Hen turns her attention to where Athena’s pointing and laughs: Buck’s rosy-cheeked and giggling as he puffs his chest out and shakes it in front of Eddie while La Bamba plays. Eddie looks a little bit exasperated but equally as rosy-cheeked as his best friend. His navy blue suit jacket is discarded on top of a nearby bush of all places right beside Buck’s own gray one, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. It’s not an unfamiliar sight; Buck usually tends to drink a little too much at parties and ends up on Eddie’s couch the next day, they say this all the time when people raise brows ask why they arrived together for work.
No, Buck’s shenanigans and Eddie’s exasperation isn’t new, but what is new is the way Eddie’s eyes sparkle like the goddamn galaxy is in them as he watches Buck. And then, when Buck wiggles his fingers as an invitation for Eddie to take them and Eddie gives in, she sees something new in Buck too: it’s the way his own smiles widens and the way he winks at Eddie, making the older man throw his head back and laugh.
“You look ridiculous,” Eddie tells Buck, but he’s smiling too much like what Hen can only describe as a lovesick fool for it to mean anything. Buck obviously thinks the same thing, because he only grins as he pulls Eddie flush against his chest and says, “At least I’m dancing.”
“I’ve been dancing too!”
“You have to loosen your hips, Eddie! God, hasn’t Pepa taught you anything?” Buck mocks as he leads them in a circle, stepping on Eddie’s toes the entire time. “Guess I’m just the better dancer.”
Eddie wrinkles his nose, but he’s still grinning as he answers, “Says the guy who’s half waltzing with me to La Bamba. ”
Buck shimmies his shoulders forward as he leans into Eddie’s face, and Hen watches with curious delight as Eddie’s cheeks flush dark red as Buck shimmies back and forth. “Come on, shake your shoulders! Let loose!”
Eddie purses his lips, and then sighs before he’s giving in and shimmying his shoulders back and forth, much to Buck’s delight. “Yeah! You got it!”
“We look like idiots,” Eddie tells him, but he’s smiling widely as they hold hands and shimmy back and forth into and out of each other’s faces. It’s true; they look a little stupid, but Buck’s smiling like Eddie’s handed him the entire world on a platter, and Eddie’s still watching him with what can only be described fondness.
And look, Hen isn’t stupid, okay? She knows that Buck and Eddie —or BuckandEddie as the station has come to call them on numerous occasions— have always been a little closer than normal best friends. She knows that Eddie thinks highly of Buck and vice versa; she knows that when one is sad, the other one feels it and comforts the other as best they can. She knows that they’re close, so they’re not something she particularly pays attention to.
But now they’re dancing like idiots in her backyard and quite literally stepping on each other’s toes, and still they’re laughing and holding onto each other like there’s no one around to watch and like there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. They’re dancing like they’re the Hen and Karen five minutes ago who absolutely destroyed the dancefloor dancing to YMCA —because Ravi, way past tipsy, had requested it and called it a wedding tradition; they’re dancing like they’re drunk and in love .
That’s when the song switches to a soft waltz, and Eddie and Buck grin and purposefully step on each other’s toes, but they don’t let go of the grip they have on the other. They stop their ridiculous shoulder shimmies from the previous song and start waltzing together, and Eddie has literal heart eyes as Buck begins to describe how albatrosses dance to court their partners.
That’s when the pieces click in Hen’s mind, and she can’t help but laugh as she picks up another drink. “Wow. They don’t even know, do they?”
Athena merely echoes her laugh and shakes her head. “Not a clue.”
Hen realizes at approximately nine at night that Buck and Eddie are in love with each other, and it isn’t weird at all. If anything, the final missing piece to the puzzle as to why their relationships always start and end at the same time finally falls into place. They’re madly, stupidly in love, and don’t have a single clue that they are.
But Hen doesn’t meddle. Not yet, at least. So she watches Buck mimic a dancing albatross while Eddie laughs, and feels her heart swell with the love they show the world even when they’re in their own little bubble.
2 - Ravi
Ravi’s been back for approximately one month before shit hits the fan and the world falls out underneath him. Like, literally.
The bridge collapse occurs on a sunny day and ends with all of the 118 coming out alive but not unscathed. And of course there’s the relief that comes with knowing everyone will be fine, but there’s also the sadness at knowing that it’ll be a while before the A-shift will all be together again since most of their members will need at least a month to recover.
Everyone does come back eventually and things get back to normal, but not before Ravi comes to a realization mid-shift: Buck and Eddie are in love and they don't know it.
It comes in the form of a bad call: it’s a nasty MVA on Sunset with four cars. One of the cars involved was carrying about five kids on a trip to the zoo for a friend’s birthday party, and there’s a torn and bloody sash that says ‘Birthday Girl’ on the road when they get there and two other ambulances are already starting CPR on three of the five kids. Three out of those five don’t make it and neither does the driver. The three other cars’ passengers fare better; a few broken bones and controlled bleeding, but the major loss of those three kids sticks with the 118 as they make their way back to the station at two in the afternoon.
Buck in particular is silent with his jaw squared and eyes looking out the window but never quite focusing on anything. It’s clear he took the loss harder than the others, he always does and Ravi’s learned not to pry. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t try to comfort him.
“Buck,” Ravi says, his soft eyes watching the older man.
Buck doesn’t look at him, and he inhales sharply before replying roughly, “I’m fine, Ravi. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Except that does the opposite of comforting Ravi; it only serves to make him worry even more. He finds himself keeping an eye on Buck throughout the rest of the day as they go to call after call. The only downtime they have is at midnight when the calls stop pouring in and they’re blessedly allowed time to sleep.
Ravi’s about to go lie down to hopefully catch an hour or two of sleep when he spots Buck sitting on the couch. It’s unusual to see him up here at this hour; he’s usually the first to head down to the bunk room to sleep, but tonight he’s sitting on a couch staring blankly at a documentary on squids that he’s supposed to be watching on his phone. That’s when Ravi finally decides to do something about Buck being not-fine.
He steps into the empty locker room for a bit and proceeds to dial Eddie’s number, knowing fully well that he’s the only one who can get Buck to open up in a situation like this. The line rings four times before there’s a muffled sound on the other side, followed by a yawned, “Ravi? It’s twelve in the morning.”
Ravi cringes at that. “Hey! Yeah, sorry about that. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“What’s up?” A pause. “Wait, you’re on shift. Why are you calling me while you’re on shift?” Panic fills the line as Eddie asks, “Did something happen to–”
“Buck’s fine,” Ravi assures him, and Eddie breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Well, physically he’s fine.”
“You’re killing me, Ravi. Is Buck fine or not?”
“We had this MVA earlier today and we had a pretty heavy loss. We lost three kids today; Buck lost one today.”
Eddie audibly sighs over the line. “God, I really wish I was working today. He never takes those losses well.”
“I know, that’s why I called you. I tried talking to him and so did the others but he’s refusing to talk to anyone. I know you usually talk to him about this stuff when you’re here, so I was wondering if maybe you could call him?”
“Yes,” Eddie immediately replies. “I’ll talk to him. What’s he doing right now?”
“Zoning out while a guy talks about squids on his phone.”
“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. “Thanks, Ravi. I’ll be there in a bit.” The call ends and Ravi’s satisfied for a while two seconds before Eddie’s words click in his mind, and he asks quietly to himself, “Did he say he’ll be here in a bit? ”
His doubts are cleared up about twenty minutes later when Eddie walks into the station in a navy blue hoodie that fits too large on him, gray sweatpants and sock-covered feet in black slides. His hair’s a mess and there are the faint creases of a pillow etched onto his left cheek, but he’s wide-eyed as he walks into the station with the energy that a man two weeks after breaking a few ribs should probably not have.
“Hey,” Eddie says when he spots Ravi. “Where is he?”
“Upstairs.” Ravi frowns. “Are you supposed to be driving?”
“No, and thanks.” Eddie pats his shoulder twice before turning and making his way upstairs, not even bothering to make small talk with Ravi.
Ravi lingers in the locker room for a few minutes, too restless to sleep and too worried to even attempt it. His gaze flickers upwards to the loft where he knows Buck and Eddie are, and he knows he should give them some space, but he also knows he won’t be able to get any sleep unless he’s sure Buck is okay. Sue him; he happens to care a lot more about this little family than he likes to let on.
When he reaches the top of the loft stairs, his worry is replaced with something else entirely.
Buck’s still sitting on the couch, but his shoulders are hunched over like he’s been crying and his voice is strained as he talks to Eddie, who’s holding Buck’s hands in his own and listening with concern-filled brown eyes beside him. There’s barely any space between them and the way that they’re positioned oddly reminds Ravi of a romance movie.
“They were just kids, Eddie,” Buck says, tears rolling down his rosy cheeks. “They had their whole life ahead of them–”
“I know,” Eddie cuts in softly as Buck leans forward and hugs him like he’s a lifeline and Buck’s lost at sea. Eddie’s fingers reach up to rub small circles into Buck’s back, and Ravi watches in silence as Buck’s body visibly deflates and he lets himself be held while he cries. “I know, Buck. I know.”
Buck cries, Eddie holds him against his broken ribs, and the pieces Ravi’s been collecting for years finally click into place.
He’s two years past his probie mistake of thinking Buck and Eddie were a divorced couple when he first joined the 118, but he’s not a probie anymore and he knows he can say with absolute certainty now that Buck and Eddie aren’t divorced, but they are in love.
There’s no way to mistake the way Buck only lets his walls fully come down around Eddie or the way Eddie drove across town at one in the morning with five broken ribs for Buck. There’s no way to mistake the way that Eddie still came even though he and Buck aren’t glued to each other's side at the moment —a fact he knows because he’s met Natalia and knows Buck’s been focusing all his attention on her nowadays, just like he knows Eddie doesn’t like her and her fascination with Buck’s death. That’s why there’s no way to mistake how much Buck and Eddie care for each other.
Ravi knows Buck and Eddie are in love —he can see it in the way they’re sitting here like the world doesn’t exist at one in the morning— but he’s pretty sure they don’t know. Otherwise Buck wouldn’t be with Natalia and Eddie wouldn’t be going on dates that Buck always gripes about under his breath when he thinks no one can hear him.
And he knows he shouldn’t jump to conclusions, he knows that two best friends can seek comfort in each other. He knows that BuckandEddie have always been too complicated for him to understand, but Ravi’s a secret romantic, alright? He’s a sucker for the cheesy love declarations and kitchen dancing, all that jazz, but there’s nothing more romantic to him than dropping everything to comfort the person you love.
Eddie’s here with multiple healing ribs and is probably sleep deprived from the pain, and he’s still holding Buck like he’s the most precious thing in the world as he breaks down. When Buck breaks down, Eddie’s there to pull him in and help him clean up the pieces, and Ravi’s willing to bet his expensive two-bedroom one-bathroom apartment that Buck would do the same.
Eddie presses his cheek against Buck’s temple, and that’s when Ravi hears the audible sigh of relief that suddenly makes this feel too intimate to intrude upon. He decides to retreat to the bunk room, and as he does, he smiles the entire way with relief of his own sweeping through his veins.
Buck will be okay; he has Eddie, after all. If he had to bet on it, Ravi would bet that he’d always have Eddie to run to when he needed to break down.
Ravi falls asleep before he can even think too hard about how calling Natalia —Buck’s actual girlfriend — never crossed his mind before he dialed Eddie’s number. And in the morning when Eddie’s long gone and Buck’s smiling and cracking jokes again, Ravi can’t find it in himself to care, because he knows he made the right choice.
3 - Chim
They’re in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital, and Chim can feel the anger rolling off Buck in waves from where he's sat on the bench beside him.
Eddie’s on the stretcher and is currently breathing through a nonrebreather, the oxygen audibly hissing as he breathes it in. There’s a pulse ox resting on his soot-covered finger and a bandage over his dirty forehead; he looks exhausted and worn to the bone, but his eyes are wide open and trained on Buck.
Chim clears his throat. “Well the good news is that your O2 sat is up to ninety-eight. I don’t think you’ll have any permanent damage from breathing in so much smoke.”
Eddie moves to remove the oxygen mask from his face, only for Buck to slap his hand down and hiss, “Don’t you dare, Eddie.”
“Buck.” Eddie sighs, removing the mask anyway. “Buck, don’t be mad–”
“I’m not mad,” Buck laughs sarcastically. “I’m not! I mean, why would I be mad after you gave me your mask and locked the doors so I wouldn’t be able to follow you?”
Chim clears his throat and focuses on sterile water containers sloshing in the cabinet above Eddie’s head. He hears Eddie sigh, and it takes everything in him not to look when the man says, “I wouldn’t have had to give you my mask if you hadn’t put your own on the victim we pulled up from under that rubble.”
“I had to save her!”
“And I had to save you !” Eddie snaps loudly. Chim chews aggressively on his gum, willing his eyes to not stray from the sterile water.
“I was fine, Eddie!”
“Well I wasn’t!” Eddie snaps sharply. “I wasn’t fine watching you give up your gear like that! I know you, Buck; I know that even without that gear you still would have tried to keep up with me and then we’d be in the exact opposite positions right now. And you know what? You should be thankful I’m not the one sitting on that bench right now, because I’d be one-thousand times more angry than you are right now.”
“It’s my job to have your back!” Buck replies frustratedly. “We promised each other, remember? You were alone up there and almost didn't even make it out! Bobby had to go back up there himself to help you and the victim you found get out of there!”
“At least it was me this time and not you!”
Silence fills the back. Chim manages to catch Hen’s knowing eyes through the rearview mirror as she drives. He half-wishes it was her in his position right now, but there’s also something about Eddie’s words that have him looking at him.
Eddie’s cheeks are red despite the soot covering them and his hair is singed from the flames he battled without any protective gear, but he’s not looking away from Buck. His eyes, deep brown and almost doe-like, have such pain and rawness in them that Chim hasn’t seen since the night Buck died for three minutes and Eddie tried to pull the line up towards him instead of down. It’s a rawness that claws at Chim’s heart and makes him feel like tearing up, because there’s fear in it of course, but there’s also that underlying current that came with Eddie's declaration.
At least I wasn’t going to lose you this time.
Buck seems to understand this too, because all the anger seeps out of him and worry fills his eyes. “Eddie–”
“Do you know how much I worry about you every time you run into something without thinking first?” Eddie asks brokenly. “You went up a ladder in a storm and died, Buck. You died for three minutes and seventeen seconds, and I can’t– I can’t see you like that again. Not if I have anything to say about it, so I’ll gladly give you my gear and push you out of harm's way whenever I need to. I just can’t lose you again, Buck.”
“Eddie, you can’t give up your own safety for me,” Buck says, but it’s more gentle and there are tears in his eyes. “I can’t let you die either, man. I need you.”
“Not the way I need you,” Eddie whispers with every ounce of honesty in him.
“Yes, I do.” Buck reaches forward to take Eddie’s hand in his. His eyes are blazing even as a tear falls down his cheek, and he says, “Eddie, I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”
“Neither can I.”
“I’m going to do stupid stuff, but I never ever want you to push me out of harm’s way and go off by yourself. We’re partners, Eds. So don’t lock the door on me in a burning building again, because next time I will destroy it just to keep following you. You have my back and I have yours; that’s how it’s always going to be.”
Eddie inhales sharply, and quickly rubs at his eyes. “You can’t keep giving up your gear like that.”
“I promise I’ll try to keep my gear on at all times now.” Buck smiles, squeezing Eddie’s hand. His expression then turns stern as he grabs the oxygen mask and snaps it over a stunned Eddie’s face. “But I’ll only promise it if you please keep this mask on until you’re at the hospital and you have the all clear from the doctor to not use it anymore.”
Eddie stares, then barks out a laugh as he squeezes Buck’s hand again. “Okay,” he says, and it’s muffled by the mask over his face, but his eyes are alarmingly soft as he stares at Buck.
And Buck? Buck’s looking at Eddie like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen as he holds his hand. Chim’s breath hitches, the ambulance jostles as it hits a pothole, and Chim realizes as Buck rhythmically strokes his thumb over Eddie’s left hand that they’re both in love with each other.
To be honest, Chim has known for a while that there’s something that’s been going on between those two since Eddie first joined the 118. He’s suspected that the two had puppy crushes on each other since their first years as partners —there’s only so many heart eyes they can shoot each other without someone else noticing— but somewhere along those six years of truck bombings, gunshot wounds and lightning strikes, those puppy crushes developed into something more serious.
He knows what it feels like to be so afraid of losing someone; he’s felt it with Maddie when Doug kidnapped her, then again when she disappeared without a trace and he feared he’d never see her again, even as he trekked across the country to find her. He knows that fear of losing the love of his life so intimately, and he also knows that he’d do anything to avoid losing her. Chim can’t live in a world without Maddie, and he knows she can’t live in a world without him in it, either. Even when they argue over petty stuff, he knows that sentiment is true. That’s what true love is, he’s come to learn.
The same can be said for Buck and Eddie. When he watches Eddie confess that he can’t bear the thought of losing Buck again and Buck confesses that he couldn’t imagine losing Eddie either, he knows that’s because they’ve known a world without the other. It’s cruel that Buck had almost felt Eddie’s own heart stop underneath his hands in the bloody LA streets, and it’s even more cruel how the world took Buck away from Eddie for those three minutes when his heart was stopped. They’ve both felt the loss of the other, have felt the world without the other, and cling to idiotic moves to ensure the other doesn’t die like it’s not a losing battle either way.
So yeah, Chim’s known for a while that BuckandEddie are a lot more than your slightly abnormally close best friends. But to hear that they’re both ready to die for the other and then live for each other in the same breath, well, it’s all the proof he needs to believe that Buck and Eddie are wholeheartedly in love with each other.
When he gets out of the ambulance and deposits Eddie on a stretcher to be seen by a doctor, he’s not at all surprised by Hen approaching him.
In lieu of small talk, Chim snaps his gum and shakes his head as he watches Buck run off to get Eddie a warm blanket while Bobby sighs loudly. “They have no clue they’re in love with each other, huh.”
“Not a bit,” Hen laughs.
They walk out half an hour later once they’re sure Eddie will be okay with Bobby, and Chim can’t help but smile when he notices Buck squeezing a cow-eyed Eddie’s hand comfortingly before swearing he’d be back to pick him up if he wasn’t discharged before their shift was over. No, those two didn’t have a single clue.
4 - Bobby
There’s bright laughter and the smell of something burning in the air when Bobby’s steps inside the Diaz household twenty minutes into Thanksgiving dinner.
It's a familiar laughter that he’s heard hundreds of times in the past seven years, but very little of in the past month. He presses his body close to the wall and peers around the corner to get a better look inside the kitchen, and smiles when he sees why Buck’s laughing.
Eddie’s pouting —or rather, attempting to pout— with a tray of burnt chocolate chip cookies in his gloved hands. Buck’s standing beside him laughing his head off, his cheeks bright pink and eyes positively sparkling for the first time in a month since he and Natalia broke up.
“It’s not funny,” Eddie tries to say firmly, but his lips are twitching with amusement. It only serves to make Buck laugh louder. “Buck, stop laughing at me and help me out here!”
“Not even God can help you now,” Buck manages through hiccups of laughter. “I’ve got to take a picture–”
“Hey, it’s your fault I let them burn in the first place!”
“Me?” Buck blinks innocently. “Impossible.”
“Yes, you,” Eddie says with a half-hearted glare. “You kept distracting me.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who brought up how albatrosses dance to court their partner and started dancing like one,” Buck says with a wide grin. “Wanna flap your wings for me again, Eds?”
Eddie flushes red, and Bobby bites back a laugh when Buck continues, “And you were doing it wrong, by the way. They dance like this.” Buck proceeds to bob up and down, and now Eddie’s spluttering, “That’s exactly what I did!”
Buck grins widely. “It’s okay Eddie. Not all of us can be great dancers.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie breathes exasperatedly. “I’m never going to try to make you laugh again. You’re banned from my kitchen.”
Buck arches a brow. “Wow. You’re kicking me out after I cooked your entire Thanksgiving dinner?”
“You also burnt my cookies,” Eddie points out with narrowed eyes. “So yes, I’m kicking you out. And I’m taking credit for dinner because you won’t help me fix this cookie fiasco.”
“Bobby will never believe that you cooked all of this, you know.” Buck grins, waggling his brows playfully at a blushing Eddie. “He knows you can’t cook.”
“I can cook!”
“You just burnt your cookies, man.”
Bobby holds back a loud laugh when Eddie tosses the burnt cookies on the countertop and lunges for a laughing Buck. The two proceed to try and tackle the other to the floor, and Bobby should be worried about how close they are to knocking dinner on the floor, but then Buck’s gasping for air as Eddie tucked him. He squeals, “Okay, okay! I yield! You win!”
Eddie smirks as he takes his fingers off Buck’s ribcage. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Buck breathes out with that crooked grin of his. “You always win. Now come on, let’s make another batch of cookies before Christopher realizes we messed up because you were dancing and bullies us the rest of our lives for it.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as he throws the burnt cookies into the trash can. Bobby can’t remember the last time in the past month that both Buck and Eddie have looked this happy, and he steps away before either of them know he’s there while wondering how one tray of cookies is meant to feed over fifteen mouths tonight.
He gets his answer after dinner when he helps Buck serve dessert and catches him taking chocolate chip cookies out of a store-bought container.
“I thought Eddie told Hen he made cookies tonight,” Bobby says, brows wrinkled in confusion.
Buck chuckles at that, shaking his head as his amused blue eyes meet Bobby’s. “He did, but twelve cookies are definitely not enough for all of us. I always buy extra cookies and mix them with his at parties.”
“Does Eddie know that?” Bobby asks, concerned.
“Oh yeah.” Buck laughs, “Eddie knows. He just pretends he doesn’t. It’s been our system for about four years now.”
“But why?”
“Well, Eddie likes to help me in the kitchen but we learned pretty early on that he is not a good cook.” Buck grins cheekily. “That’s why I put him on cookie duty. It helps him feel like he’s doing something and even if he messes up we still have cookies.”
Bobby hums. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just send him to buy the cookies?”
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be able to talk to him while I cook,” Buck says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Bobby nods slowly. “I see. And he knows you buy cookies but still makes them just to keep you company.”
“Like I said, it works like a charm. I can’t imagine cooking without Eddie trying to distract me with my own facts.” He picks the plate of cookies out and walks back out into the yard, and Bobby’s left to stare at the pies he bought that he set on the countertop to bring back outside.
When he walks out with the pies and sets them out on the table next to the cookies, he watches curiously as Eddie proudly tells Hen, “See? I told you I made cookies.”
“I have to admit, I’m impressed. I half thought that you would’ve burned them.”
“He did burn the first batch, but we made a second one,” Buck supplies from where he’s sitting beside Eddie with his arm slung across the other man’s chair. Eddie shoots him a glare and Buck’s smile widens. “An albatross wouldn’t give you a second chance like that, you know.”
“What?” Chim asks with a wrinkled nose from across the table.
Eddie flushes red then leans forward into Buck’s space, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Good thing you’re not an albatross then, because I wouldn’t have been impressed with that dance. It was completely wrong.”
“No way! Yours was wrong!” The two quickly fall into a hushed conversation over albatrosses as Buck pulls his phone out to look for an honest to god video of how they dance, leaving everyone else to eye them wearily.
“I’ll never understand them,” Hen says flatly before turning her attention to Karen and Maddie, who are talking about their favorite wines.
Bobby, for his part, only smiles as he watches Buck and Eddie point at the video through different intervals. They’re eating the store bought cookies that both pretend are Eddie’s despite knowing better and giggling as they end up watching videos of other birds dancing to determine which one dances better, and Bobby’s hit with the realization once more that Buck and Eddie are in love.
It’s not a new realization; nhe’s known for a while that what runs between those two is far deeper than friendship. He saw it firsthand when Eddie held Buck’s hand throughout that ambulance ride when his leg was crushed under the engine, then when Buck tried to claw through forty feet of mud to get to him and when he basically moved in with Eddie for weeks to help him recover after the sniper. The last time he was reminded of it was when Buck died and Eddie tried to pull him up towards him, like it was some primal instinct to save him.
So yeah, Bobby’s known for a while that Buck and Eddie are in love with each other. Those HR forms with their names on it have been sitting on his desk for years, just waiting for the day they realize how they feel about each other. But every day, Buck and Eddie show him new quiet ways in which they love the other that leave him a little stunned.
Like today, for instance. Eddie had been the one to announce that he would be hosting Thanksgiving dinner at his place last week, yet Buck was the one who cooked while Eddie pretended to bake cookies just so they could spend time together in the kitchen and he could make Buck laugh. And Buck had not only known that Eddie didn’t care about the baking, but had also gone out to buy extra cookies anyway so it seemed like he did.
Bobby knows what it feels like to cook with the person you love; he and Athena cook together all the time. And he knows Eddie can’t cook, he knows Buck does all of it, but in the end it’s not about the cooking at all. It’s about spending time with the person you love, laughing and enjoying each other’s presence. It’s about love.
“Are you alright?” Athena asks when Bobby takes her hand in his own and squeezes it gently.
“Never better,” he chuckles.
Maybe, he thinks as he catches Buck smiling adoringly at Eddie as he argues that bird mating dances are ridiculous, just maybe they’ll realize it soon.
5 - Christopher
Christopher’s sitting in the back of Buck’s Jeep on the way home from a trip to the aquarium. His stomach is full of the chicken tenders and French fries Buck bought him and his cheeks hurt from laughing and teasing his dad over not knowing that some sharks lay eggs, and he’s so happy he might suggest going back soon to catch another penguin feeding show, but he stops himself before he can suggest it.
When he was younger —way back when he was basically a baby, because he’s finally a teenager now— he spent the entire ride back home talking to Buck about their day while he and his dad exchanged amused looks over the center console. Christopher would giggle about whether zebra’s were white with black stripes or black with white stripes like in the Madagascar movie franchise, and Buck would tell him all he’d learned about zebras while his dad would add in some incredibly wrong animal facts that had Christopher and Buck joining forces to tease him mercilessly.
Now, Christopher is older and he falls silent during most of the ride home. Buck thinks it’s because he needs some time to unwind from the busy days they usually have when they go out as a family, and his dad lets him have his space in instances like this without any questions nowadays, but the truth is that he falls silent just so he can watch his dad and Buck be ridiculously silly and in love the entire way home.
He doesn’t remember much about how his dad and mom were together. Their time together had been so short that he almost doesn’t remember it at all, even though he still loves his mom fiercely. But what he does remember about that time his mom and dad were together is that his dad was different.
His smiles were practiced, his laughter well-timed, and while he does remember them kissing, Christopher doesn’t think he’d ever seen his dad all pink the way people in love are supposed to be when they kiss. He knows his dad cared a lot for his mom; he doesn’t fail to remind Christopher of it every few weeks when he mentions an odd fact about her. He knows he may have loved her, but the older he gets and the more he learns about love, the more certain he grows that his mom and dad weren’t in love.
It’s also how he also grows more certain that his dad and Buck are in love.
He sees it sprinkled in the way they make life easier for the other without making a big deal out of it; like right now, for instance. Buck’s driving with two hands on the wheel like he’s driving with a baby in the back —which Christopher isn’t, thank you very much— and his dad’s in the passenger seat, smiling as the setting sun casts a glow on his pink cheeks and brown eyes that stare at Buck the whole way home. Christopher’s not sure he’s supposed to know that his dad hates driving, but he does, and he knows Buck does too by the way he always wordlessly picks up his Jeep keys and drives them around so his dad can sit in the passenger seat and enjoy the day.
Right now, he sees it in the way his dad’s flipping through Buck’s phone for the playlist he knows Buck likes to drive to when Christopher’s in the car, all while listening to Buck talk about the new amazing thing Jee did this week. (She finally put her shoes on right all by herself. Christopher’s a little proud of her for that, too, because putting on shoes is hard sometimes.)
Buck’s driving them like he always does even though he should be tired of it, and Christopher’s dad is in the passenger seat, smiling with pink cheeks at Buck when he thinks he can’t see. But Christopher sees everything; he sees the way Buck glances at him with the same fond smile and pink cheeks when his dad looks away, and it makes him kind of want to cry sometimes. Not because he’s sad, but because he’s never seen love like this.
His mom’s love for his dad had come and gone like she did, and Ms. Flores’ love for his dad hadn’t been enough and had ended with her in tears in the kitchen while he listened through the doorway. That love came and went, but this love that’s written in his dad and Buck’s faces? It’s fond, it’s teasing, and it’s not tearful or suddenly gone one day then back the next. This love is the pure love that the girls on the school playground talk about wanting, the pure love that makes teenage boys stick their tongues out and gag because it’s gross. It’s stupid, sappy love, and Christopher thinks that it’s beautiful.
Christopher feels himself smile as he watches Buck gently shove his dad’s arm across the console. “Want to pick up some tacos from that new place around the block from home?”
“Sure. Just make sure–”
“–they add the extra spicy sauce you like on your tacos, yeah yeah,” Buck waves him off with a playful roll of his eyes. “And I’ll make sure to ask for an extra side of it because I know you always pout when they don’t send it.”
“As long as you know,” Eddie says with a fond smile, and he looks so happy that Christopher could cry, because he’s only thirteen; he’s not an expert in love and he thinks kissing is gross, but he knows that it’s not supposed to be angry or tearful. And when he sees the love his dad and Buck share by flashing each other secret smiles with pink cheeks in the car, he supposes he wants something like that one day.
Christopher knows his dad and Buck are in love. And still, they remind him of it without knowing they’re doing it by simply knowing and caring for each other like it's as easy as breathing. So he sits back and keeps watching them bicker and laugh and fall even more in love, thanking the universe for sending Buck to make their family whole and to make his dad fall in love in a pink-cheeked way.
6 - Buck and Eddie
Buck’s tie is thrown on the kitchen table along with Eddie’s blue suit jacket, the centerpiece Eddie stole from Maddie and Chim’s wedding sitting in the center of the table. The leftover lasagna from last night that Buck heated for them to eat as a midnight snack after the wedding sits on the countertop beside two unopened beers that probably won’t be opened tonight.
The kitchen lights are dimmed, the refrigerator is humming behind them, and the house is still with Christopher sleeping off the day’s excitement in his room. Buck’s phone is on the table, a quiet love song playing in the empty kitchen, and he and Eddie are laughing as they dance around the kitchen in their socks with pink-cheeks and sparkling eyes.
Buck doesn’t remember how they got here, but he doesn’t care. Neither does Eddie, it seems, by the way he’s letting Buck lead them in a slow waltz in the kitchen when they should be sleeping.
“You know,” Eddie says, visibly amused, “I think this is the tamest we’ve danced all night.”
Buck snorts loudly. “Do you think Chim will ever forgive us for teaching Jee how to do the Macarena to Puppy Love ?”
“Maybe.” Eddie pauses. “Probably not, but Jee enjoyed it. I think Maddie did too, though I’m not sure if it’s because she was wine-drunk or because she genuinely found it funny.”
Buck grins. “You say that like you weren’t on the border of tipsy three hours ago because of all the champagne you drank.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and lightly slaps Buck’s shoulder with the hand that’s already resting there. “Yeah, yeah. Who’s the one who started a conga line to Frank Sinatra completely sober, again?”
“Hey,” Buck laughs, “You told me it would be funny!”
“I don’t recall ever saying that,” Eddie retorts, but he’s smiling widely with rosy cheeks. Buck can’t help but match his smile. “Sure, Eds.”
Eddie hums again, and they fall into silence for a few seconds, just swaying in the kitchen like they’re at a wedding. Then Buck says quietly with a hint of laughter in his voice, “Remember when we waltzed to La Bamba at Hen and Karen’s vow renewal?”
Eddie barks out a surprised laugh at that. “You remember that night?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Maybe because you were so drunk that I didn’t think you’d remember,” Eddie says, smiling fondly. “You know we looked like idiots, right?”
“Yeah, but you were laughing.” Buck’s smiling softly, and Eddie’s thumb instinctively brushes over his pulse point. “I’m completely fine looking like an idiot to make you laugh.”
Eddie’s own smile softens, and he pulls Buck closer until they’re pressed chest to chest together. “Careful,” he warns, “You keep talking like that and I might say something dumb.”
“Like?” Buck asks, barely breathing. Then Eddie sings along softly to the song playing, “Something stupid like I love you.”
Buck’s response is a blinding smile, red cheeks, and the adoration for Eddie that’s lived in his eyes for years. Eddie’s declaration doesn’t scare him, because he’s known for years that Eddie is all he wants. And maybe he’s been a bit of an idiot to let him go time after time to date person after person because he’s been afraid to put the truth of their relationship into words, but it’s all okay because he’s here now. He’s finally ready for forever, just like Eddie is.
Eddie’s face reflects the adoration that Buck has for him, and there’s not a hint of nervousness in it because he knows that they’ve been heading this direction for ages, too. Truck bombings, well collapses, broken walls and lightning strikes have led them to the inevitability that is them dancing in this kitchen at midnight, both so ridiculously in love that it demands to be put into words. So Eddie tells Buck he loves him like he’s been telling him through cooking together and dancing like birds for years, and it’s not scary because he knows it’s mutual. He knows the time is finally right, and he knows that Buck is going to catch him as he falls.
And Buck does, because of course he does. He smiles, presses their foreheads together, and whispers, “You’re my best friend, Eddie.” Then, with all the love in his heart, “I’m so in love with you, I think it’s going to kill me.” Eddie laughs, Buck kisses him, and it’s like coming home after a never-ending shift from hell to the promise of peace.
Buck and Eddie finally put their six years of quiet love into the words I’m in love with you at midnight in March, punctuated with the last-first kiss of their lives, and everything is exactly the same but excitingly new as they begin the last chapter of the rest of their lives together.