Chapter Text
Eddie was starting to spiral, he could feel it. Each day he woke up alone in his house, he could feel the dark thoughts swirling closer and becoming more oppressive. It had been a month and a half since Christopher had walked out the front door without looking back, and he was showing no signs of wanting to come home. Eddie wasn’t even sure if Chris considered the house his home anymore. If Eddie’s mother was to be believed, Chris had settled into his old room, his old life, just fine. Eddie had been doing okay. He’d had his shifts at the firehouse and their united fight against Gerrard to focus on and take his mind off things. He had his family at the station to support him. He had his friends to confide in and find peace with. He looked forward to every time his days off lined up with Buck’s and Tommy’s, which happened rarely, but often enough to have become routine.
When they had first started hanging out as a trio, it had been a bit of a rocky start. Buck had still been self-conscious about outwardly showing his affection toward Tommy, which Eddie found absolutely ridiculous. He’d been elated when Buck had felt comfortable enough to open up to Eddie about his relationship with Tommy, and they had long since cleared the air from the basketball incident. Still, it had been odd to figure out how to make the three of them work, trying to invite Tommy into such a close friendship that had been well-developed for years now. They made it work, though, and it got easier each time they hung out together.
It quickly became a routine: Eddie and Tommy would throw on a baseball game or some other sport, and Buck would sit with them companionably while looking up information on whatever happened to hold his interest at the time. They would spend time either at the loft or at Tommy’s apartment, but it was a silent agreement to avoid Eddie’s house. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was grateful to them for being considerate. Even so, Eddie couldn’t help the pang in his chest every time their nights together came to an end, his friends awkwardly shuffling him back off to his empty house while they settled in for a night to themselves.
It’s during one of their weekly take-out and game nights that Eddie starts noticing it. Tommy had just passed him his lo mein as Eddie took his designated spot in the oversized armchair, Buck settling into his usual spot at the end of the couch. As Eddie was peeling open the cardboard, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively flicked his gaze up from the greasy tangle of noodles in front of him just in time to catch the pad of Tommy’s thumb swiping at General Tso’s sauce from the corner of Buck’s lips. Eddie tracked Tommy’s hand as it traveled to his own mouth, pink tongue peeking out to lap up the sticky stray drop. Eddie watched Buck’s face heat up with a blush as his eyes darkened, and immediately averted his gaze, something uncomfortable settling in the pit of his stomach.
He immediately felt a rush of shame and guilt. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t be feeling uncomfortable around his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend. There was no way he would ever see Buck or Tommy differently just because of who they chose to love, he was better than that. So why was he fighting the urge to shift in his seat and look anywhere but at the open display of affection? He had forced the damning thoughts from his head, dispelled the clenching in his stomach, and stuffed his face with a forkful of lo mein, turning his attention back to the baseball game playing out on Tommy’s huge television. The rest of the night had progressed without incident, and Eddie had left Tommy’s apartment in high spirits.
The next couple of times they had hung out together, Eddie had kept his blossoming discomfort in check. It hadn’t taken very long for him to realize what the underlying issue was - he missed being able to have that physical closeness himself. Even with Ana, Marisol, and Kim, he hadn’t allowed himself to be so carefree. It hits him when Buck presses a quick kiss to Tommy’s cheek in passing, chucking as he goes. Eddie hasn’t had the kind of playful, easy, intimate relationship since he and Shannon were fumbling through high school. The thought had brought a different kind of ache to his chest, one he knew could never truly be soothed, not even with an exact look-alike telling him it was okay to seek closure. Maybe especially not then.
Eddie had gone home that night and examined every relationship he’d had. He’d thought about Shannon and how their marriage had fallen apart. He’d thought about Ana and how he’d had an out-and-out panic attack at the idea of her replacing Shannon as Chris’ mother. He’d thought about Marisol, the one he should have respected more, given more time to. He’d thought about Kim and how his own actions had blown up his relationship with his son. It had come as a surprise when, instead of comparing each of the later relationships to the one he’d had with Shannon, he compared them with his friendship with Buck. Being around Buck was easy, it was natural, and it was comfortable. They clicked so well together and just understood each other on a level no one else had ever understood Eddie. Buck called him out on his bullshit, made sure he was taking care of himself as well as Christopher and was always there if Eddie needed someone to talk to.
He’d had a flashback to the night he’d attempted to call his army mates. The fear that had gripped him and refused to let go. The inadequacy he’d felt when he realized he’d never actually saved any of them. The guilt of not keeping in contact with them. The terror of coming back to himself with Buck crouched in front of him, Christopher terrified and hiding in his room, and the destruction he hadn’t even been aware he was creating. Buck had coached him through breathing exercises and had let Eddie cry out his emotions, listening patiently and offering whatever help he could give.
The flashback had almost pulled him down into his spiraling thoughts, but then he’d thought of Tommy, and how things had just clicked with him. They got on wonderfully, had so much in common, and just like with Buck, it had felt natural. Maybe it wasn’t the intimacy he was craving, maybe it was just friendship. He had dismissed that thought almost as soon as it had entered his head. That was ridiculous. He had Buck, and Tommy, and his 118 family. He’d had Christopher. He’d slept in his son’s bed that night, clutching his pillow to his chest, his frame curled uncomfortably on a mattress that was much too small for him. He would have to get Chris a bigger one when he came home.
~
The next time they’re together is the most telling and startles Eddie the most out of anything that had happened since Chris left. The more he found himself watching Buck and Tommy interact together, the more he was beginning to realize it wasn’t distaste or discomfort he was feeling - it was jealousy. He’s jealous of what Buck and Tommy share, and not just the ease of their relationship. He’s jealous of Tommy for having the courage to make a move on Buck, someone who until rather recently was an unrepentant womanizer. He’s jealous of Buck for having caught Tommy’s attention.
It happened when Eddie had looked over in time to catch Tommy passing behind Buck in the small space of Buck’s kitchen at the loft. Tommy’s hand found its way to rest casually on Buck’s hip as they danced around each other trying to finish the last preparations for dinner. Eddie stared at the point of contact for each of the twenty seconds that Tommy’s hand was touching Buck. It hadn’t been too long after that he felt the phantom pressure of a strong hand on his own hip. He had startled himself right out of his thoughts, realizing he had started daydreaming about having Tommy’s hand caressing him instead of Buck. Daydreaming about having Buck’s heated gaze directed at him instead of Tommy.
“Eddie? You with us?” Tommy’s voice brings Eddie crashing back to the present, his eyes snapping up to lock with the older man’s from across the kitchen.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m good,” he says quickly, subtly shaking his head to clear his traitorous thoughts. “What do you need me to do?”
Buck doesn’t even look up from the pan he’s browning ground beef in. “If you want a beer with your nachos, you know where it is. I think that’s about it, we’ve got the rest pretty much handled. Grab me one if you’re going in the fridge, though, would you?”
Eddie isn’t particularly feeling in the mood to have a beer, but he might as well if Buck is drinking. “Tommy? Want one,” he asks as he moves around the island toward the fridge.
“Nah, I’m good. Got an early shift tomorrow.” Tommy shakes his head, pulling down a cookie sheet from one of the cupboards to start spreading tortilla chips over it. “Oh, can you get the cheese? It’s in the bottom drawer.” Eddie pauses to stoop down and snatch out the bag of Mexican blend shredded cheese, tossing it into Tommy’s open hand when the other man holds one up.
Awkwardly, he shuffles back over to the dining table, feeling out of place and unnecessary. He doesn’t have long to dwell on that feeling before a tray full of nachos is placed on the table, the shredded cheese broiled over the meat and chips perfectly. It’s such a simple dish, Buck didn’t get to show off his continually blossoming culinary skills, but Tommy had had a craving for basic nachos, and who was Eddie to say no when he was already imposing on their Friday night?
They eat quickly, and before he realizes it, Eddie is taking Buck up on his offer of a second beer. After they’re finished and Eddie customarily offers to clean up since the other two made dinner, Buck waving him off easily, Tommy and Eddie move into the loft’s cramped living room area. Since Buck’s couch wouldn’t have accommodated all three of them, Buck had insisted on getting an armchair as well. It didn’t really fit, both physically and in terms of style, and it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the one Tommy had, but Eddie still claimed it as his whenever they were at the loft. Eddie is settled comfortably in his spot, Tommy claiming the end of the couch closer to Eddie so they can talk baseball while Buck watches a documentary about his current fixation - the history of Great Flood myths and legends. Eddie’s glad he’s still able to share his Disney+ account with the younger man, Buck has thoroughly been enjoying Albert Lin’s Lost Cities documentaries.
Still reeling from his earlier revelations, Eddie is hyper-aware of the other two men. He watches as Buck comes over to settle in with them, taking up his spot at the other end of the small couch. His back is resting against the armrest, and he brings his feet up to lay casually in Tommy’s lap while he settles his tablet on his thighs. Tommy’s attention is focused on the sports channel they had playing on the television, but Eddie is still able to zero in on the instinctual way Tommy brings one hand up to rest on Buck’s shins, the other drifting to the younger man’s bare foot, thumb absently beginning to massage the sole.
The scene in front of him was so incredibly, painfully domestic, and Eddie wanted to be a part of it so badly. Suddenly, he can’t breathe. He feels like he’s drowning all over again. He can’t get enough air into his lungs no matter how many times he tries to suck in a breath; he feels like he’s drawing in water instead. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be intruding on such a private moment. He should never have tried to monopolize his friends’ time, their schedules synch up so rarely, what had he been thinking? Of course, they would rather spend it together, just the two of them.
His stomach twists and his chest constricts as he shoots up out of his chair, two pairs of wide eyes locking on him immediately. He manages to fumble out some sort of excuse, he’s not entirely sure what it is, though. He makes a beeline for the door, grabbing up his keys from the side table as he tugs the heavy wood open, ignoring what sounds distantly like Buck scrambling to his feet and calling after him. The door slams shut behind him, and Eddie tries his best not to sprint down the stairs to make it to the safety of his truck. He’s not even entirely sure he should be driving right now, but he needs to get out of there.
He manages to make it home in one piece, but he has no recollection of the drive beyond having to force himself to breathe, clutching at his thigh with one had to ground himself, remind himself that he’s not nearly fifty feet underground, not trapped by rainwater and a flooding pipe. Even though it was nearly ninety-five degrees outside in the blistering LA summer sun, Eddie knew he had reached to crank the heat in the truck. When he gets inside his house, he makes sure to lock the door, and even throw the deadbolt, something he doesn’t normally feel the need to do. He grabs the oversized fleece throw blanket from the couch in the living room, and hides himself away in his bedroom. The cocoon of blankets he builds is well and truly impressive, but he isn’t even aware enough to appreciate it. He’s noticed his phone going off almost non-stop since he left Buck’s apartment. He flicks the screen and stares blankly at the missed calls and numerous texts from both Buck and Tommy, but he doesn’t respond.
He swipes the screen open and pulls up his contact app, scrolling down until he finds the newest entry. Before he can stop himself or think through this rationally, the phone is ringing, and Gerrard’s voice is picking up on the other end.
“What?” Brusque as ever. Eddie steels himself for the impending shit show.
“Cap, I’m not going to make it in for my shift tomorrow. I came down with a really bad stomach bug or something,” Eddie says, though he’s still not entirely sure if anything he says can pass for believable at this point. Gerrard grumbles something about weak stomachs and weaker men that Eddie chooses to ignore.
“You sure you want to do that, Diaz? Callouts on my watch mean crapper duty for three months.” The unpleasant thought makes his already ill stomach turn even more.
“Yes, sir, I’m aware. I’ll call around to some of B-shift, see if anyone can cover for me.” Eddie’s never played hookey before in his life, but he can’t imagine going in to work tomorrow to face Buck.
“Fine, do it,” are Gerrard’s final words before Eddie’s phone beeps to alert him that the call had ended. Honestly, he’d expected worse.
After he makes the few promised calls to B-shift, getting lucky on the third call when a newer recruit eagerly agrees to pick up his shift, Eddie turns his phone off and curls further into the blanket burrito he’s made of himself. His thoughts drift back to the events of that night, steadying himself against the barrage of images and feelings that begin to flow freely now that he’s let them.
He had imagined himself in Buck’s place on that couch, but worse than that, he’d imagined himself leaning back into Buck’s side with Buck’s arm wrapped around his torso, sandwiched between his two best friends on a couch that certainly was not meant to hold three rather large grown men. He feels his face heat up at the idea, reaches out to shut off his bedside lamp, and tries to go to sleep.
~
Buck and Tommy let Eddie avoid them for the better part of a week and a half, but not for lack of trying. Buck had constantly tried to corner Eddie at the firehouse, but conveniently, Gerrard kept finding menial tasks to punish Eddie with, or the bell would sound and they would have to race for the truck. Tommy tried calling Eddie’s phone every night when he knew Eddie would be at home, but it was so much easier to ignore someone when they weren’t physically in front of you, demanding your attention.
By the time Thursday rolled around, Eddie could tell that Buck was fed up and becoming a dangerous mix between despondent and determined, his mood often vacillating between the two polar opposites. At the end of their shift, Buck changed out of his gear at record speed and then disappeared without a word. Eddie assumed he had finally given up for the time being, until he walked out to his truck and saw Buck leaning against the driver’s side door, glaring at Eddie as he slowed in his approach.
Eddie sighed, preparing to have an argument right in the parking lot. It seemed like Buck was full of surprises lately, though. Instead of becoming argumentative or demanding answers, Buck spoke levelly.
“You’re going to come to the loft on Saturday,” he started. “We’re both off, I checked the roster already. If you don’t show up at noon, I’m going to come kick down your door and drag you out, and you know better than to test me on that right now.”
Truth was, Eddie did know better. He knew the exact extent of Buck’s strength and sheer power. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could avoid having this confrontation any longer. It wasn’t fair to Buck, or Tommy, or the rest of the 118 who had to stand by awkwardly while the tension between Buck and Eddie grew to a nearly unbearable degree. For better or worse, it seemed like they were going to talk about this.
Eddie gave Buck a stiff nod, and Buck pushed himself off of the truck, walking off toward the Jeep without another word or glance. Eddie pressed his forehead against the sun-heated paint of his truck, just trying to collect himself before he got behind the wheel. He had less than two days to figure out how he was going to explain to his best friend that they couldn’t hang out anymore.