Work Text:
Eddie exits the Facebook app and promptly turns his phone on Do Not Disturb. Because he might’ve endured a minute of bravery while drafting the message and haphazardly slamming the post button, but that does not extend to a singular moment longer.
It’s honestly a relief. Since his recent revelation about himself, it’s been sitting on his tongue, yearning for a release. The others have started to pick up on his fidgeting, and it was inevitable that someone — Buck — would figure out what was going on with him eventually.
A sexuality crisis in his thirties is not something he anticipated but hey! Turns out you learn a lot about yourself when you, for the first time ever, spend some time in your own company without having a responsibility towards another person. Gives you the opportunity to reflect. And reflect Eddie did. Reflected to a point of realization that the contributing factor in all his relationships turning into trainwrecks was partly due to the fact that he was navigating the wrong crowd.
And that who he’s been looking for has been right in front of him this whole time.
But whatever. He’s here now, and his phone would probably be heating up with notifications if it was on. It’s only a matter of time before someone — Buck — turns up at his doorstep and demands clarity. But it’s about a twenty minute drive at best, so Eddie uses whatever time he has to himself before he has to answer any questions.
And then, his phone buzzes. Which, huh, weird. What’s that Do Not Disturb button for?
He ignores it.
But then it buzzes again. And a third time. Kind of like how Buck blows his phone up daily.
He checks it.
It’s not Buck. It’s— What?
Lena Bosko
—
9:12PM
Saw your unhinged FB post.
Proud or whatever.
But also, totally called it. Sorry.
Eddie stares at the messages blankly before answering.
No hello? No how are you doing? Just straight to bullying?
You know me.
Anyway, it’s been a while.
I’m thinking we’re due for a catch up.
You’re gay, I’m gay, maybe we should do something fun about that?
And, uh. Eddie did not know that about Lena. Looking back, he probably should’ve.
What do gay people do for fun? I’m new to this.
Get drunk like normal people, except in a gay way.
That makes sense.
9:18PM
So, I’m thinking, let’s go to a gay bar. I’m severely deprived of dancing with beautiful queer women. Broke up with my long-term girlfriend six months ago and I haven’t dared to go out since.
Damn, I’m sorry!
He’s not sure what else to say about the breakup. Up until thirty seconds ago, he hadn't known Lena even had a girlfriend.
So he moves onto the first part of the statement.
I’ve never been to gay bar.
Ok, that’s a lie.
I have been to plenty of gay bars on calls.
But never intentionally.
Well, d’you wanna try doing it intentionally?
He took a ride down the pussy lane and came out to everyone via a Facebook life update and Lena thinks Eddie is up for hitting the club? Wasn’t that a perfect example of his lack of social skills?
But he hasn't even touched alcohol past a beer or two since the Bachelor party, and letting loose while catching up with an old friend… Is something he could get on board with.
So, he texts Lena before he can change his mind.
Fuck it. Let’s do it.
Eddie and Lena schedule their get-together at some gay first-responder bar — because, turns out, these exist — called The Flame (yeah, ironic). The days leading up to Saturday night pass in a whirlwind.
At work, no one’s made Eddie’s coming out into a big deal. He hasn’t brought it up except for the first shift after, when Hen, Bobby and Chim gave him quiet hugs, and Buck— Buck just sort of stood there, onlooking the pleasantries with something akin to turmoil in his subdued expression. Eddie hadn’t expected a banner and cake but Buck, not even looking at him? It stung. Especially when he started getting progressively less and less normal for the days that followed, bumping into things and squeaking whenever Eddie so much as brushed their knees together in the engine. Go figure.
Christopher still hasn’t come back from Texas, and he has never once wanted to own a Facebook account — it’s for boomers like you, Dad — but his tías did receive the notification. After an hour on a teary joint call with Sophia and Adriana, Christopher came to the phone. He hadn’t initiated a conversation with him up until this moment, so it came as a shock to Eddie when Christopher gave him a supportive little speech that made him weep in the shower afterwards. No biggie.
But all in all, despite Buck’s freakishness, things have been good. The dark veil that loomed over Eddie his entire life was finally snatched off, and Eddie never wants that heavy mask to bother him again. He’s just going to be unapologetically himself, whether people like it or not.
He never said he was a good person, though, so he indulges in some flirting with willing guys on calls, always when Buck is close enough to hear. His huffing and puffing in the engine afterwards is just such a thrill to Eddie’s vanity, he can’t stop it.
When they’re in the locker room clocking off from the shift on Saturday morning, Buck is throwing not-very-subtle glances his way, evidently meaning to start a conversation. After five minutes of his jitters, Eddie turns to him and asks what’s up.
“N-nothing, just, uh, what are you doing, uh, tonight?” Buck manages, then winces at his stuttering. Internally, Eddie grins.
“Meeting up with an old friend,” he supplies. “We’re going out for drinks.”
If possible, Buck pales even further.
“Old friend? Do I know this friend? Who is he?”
“She,” Eddie corrects, and Buck lets out an undoubtedly relieved sigh. “And, yeah, you know her, but I can’t really say who it is, as it’s a bit revealing of her identity. So…” He tilts his head in apology. Buck blinks at him a few times, processing. And then—
“Cool,” he squeaks out. “Cool, cool, cool. Yeah, have fun. Um, bye.”
And he’s out of the door like a tornado, leaving a mess in his wake.
It’s only later, when Eddie wakes up from his post-shift nap and the clock is ticking dangerously closer to eight, when he’s supposed to leave for the bar, that he realizes he has zero idea what he’s doing.
Lena Bosko
—
6:02PM
Help. What do I wear to this thing?
Lena answers almost immediately.
That depends. Will you be trying to pick someone up?
Jesus Christ, no.
Then wear whatever sad single dad clothes you have. Idk.
I do not have sad single dad clothes!
Sure…
Eddie briefly considers standing her up to avoid any further teasing, but he ends up raiding his closet until he finds a Henley he hasn’t worn in a while. Last time he did, Buck said something about the color bringing out his eyes. Eddie didn’t blush or anything, thank you very much.
By the time his reminder alarm goes off at eight, Eddie’s slicked his hair back so many times that he’s certain it’s 99% gel, 1% hair at this point, but he never did say he was good at this going out to a gay bar ordeal.
He just hopes he survives the night.
The Flame isn’t crowded when Eddie arrives, but to be fair, it’s still quite early for getting drunk. He appreciates that the establishment isn’t covered from head to toe with pride flags, but it does have a cute little hall of fame to celebrate queer first responders through the ages. He reads the plaque beside it — a story about a fire station that never agreed to the public’s opinion, restlessly assisting and freely touching AIDS patients when most wouldn’t.
He stores it in his head for later, when Buck is back to normal and he can tell Eddie all kinds of interesting facts about queer firefighters. He’s certain his friend has already gone down that deep dive.
Lena is waiting for him at the bar, dressed in a tight-fitting shirt with cleavage, and a pair of dark jeans. Her usual ponytailed hair is set loose and cascades down her shoulders. Eddie thinks, if he harbored any attraction to women, he would call her pretty hot.
“Long time no see,” says Lena, amusement sparking her eyes as she looks him up and down. “A Henley, really? It’s like you’re trying to make sure no one ever gets into your pants again.”
Of course. Straight to teasing. “Buck said it looks nice,” he supplies.
“Well, if Buck said that, then I’m sure there’s no changing your mind,” snides Lena. Without much further ado, she grabs the attention of a bartender, momentarily beguiled when she turns to reveal her face and tattooed sleeves. “Um, hi. Two Rocco’s on tap, please.”
When the bartender slips the beers over to them, Eddie and Lena scout out the bar. Instead of settling for a booth, they choose an unoccupied pool table, left off with some of the balls scattered about. Lena makes quick work of setting up a fresh game.
“So,” she starts, after hitting the cue ball for the first time and two balls immediately flying into the pockets. “How did you get to a point where you came out to everyone via a Facebook life update?”
Oh, so they’re doing this already. Might as well.
“You remember Christopher?”
“Of course. Cute kid. He must be, what, thirteen by now?”
“Just turned fourteen,” corrects Eddie. On Lena’s second try, no balls fall in, so she hands the stick over to him. “He— Well, I sort of blew my life up by secretly seeing a woman that looked like the dead-ringer for my late wife, while in a relationship with another woman. And Chris happened to walk in on us.”
Lena doesn’t even try to hide her wince. “Christ, Eddie.”
“It wasn’t great,” he admits, trying to smother the shame climbing up his throat. “Chris was angry. Like, really angry. So angry that he called up my parents, who dragged him back to Texas. He wanted nothing to do with me. And I let him.”
Lena nods, understanding. “I assume he’s still in Texas?”
“Yep,” says Eddie and finally hits the cue ball. No balls go in. “But I’m working on it. Slowly but surely. It’s been five months, for fuck’s sake. I can’t let this go on any longer. He needs to want to come back home by Christmas, at the latest, or I’m flying over to take him home myself, even if he or my parents aren’t up for it.”
“You’re his father,” says Lena. “You’ve got a bigger say in the matter, I think.”
Eddie shrugs. They pass the stick between each other in silence for a while, sipping their beers. Eddie realizes he has no intention of getting anywhere near drunk tonight, and a couple of beers like usual will do just fine.
“But anyway, what’s that got to do with coming out?” carries on Lena.
Oh, right.
“The fact that Chris left and I was on my own, for the first time since… Ever,” he pronounces. “I got to be with myself, handle my unresolved feelings for Shannon, and figure out what’s making me screw up my every relationship with a woman. And, turns out, I’m not as big of an asshole as I thought. Just sorta trying to make nothing into something when I have never felt strongly about any woman I’ve dated. Not in the way that I was willing to fight for them, or their affection. Even with Shannon, I just wanted to be needed, but I didn’t need her. Not like a spouse should.”
Eddie lets out a sigh, looking down at his feet. “And then there’s Buck. Who I do need. Who I’ve never allowed myself to want, though. It crept up to me all of a sudden, that I could be allowed. I could allow myself this one thing…”
Against what Eddie believes is her better judgment, Lena snickers.
“Sorry! It’s just—” she pauses to hit the cue ball. Another two balls in, seriously? Eddie hasn’t even managed one. “Called it. You were acting like a lovesick ex-spouse that time you blew up at him at the grocery store, as though Buck was behind paying you child support.”
“Hey now,” he warns, tasting bile at the memory.
“I do know a thing about homoerotic friendships myself,” she carries on. “My ex, the one I broke up with? She was my best friend growing up in Sacramento. Denied to herself and everyone else that she’s a lesbian. Then, four years ago, I ran into her at a gay club in Hollywood and we had sex in the bathroom. We got together the moment we sobered up. A real Good Luck, Babe story.”
Eddie doesn't get that reference, but he doesn't question her.
“The point is, I get where you’re coming from. It’s a scary thing, realizing you’ve got a thing for your best friend. However, in your case? I’m not worried.”
Eddie scrunches his nose. “How come?”
“I stalked Buck’s Instagram,” she says. “He’s dating some older pilot dude, right?”
“Right,” scoffs Eddie. It’s not that he hates Tommy, but— Okay, he hates Tommy.
“And he’s got a singular picture of him up on his feed, among — I counted — sixty-five pictures of you. Sixty-five, Eddie,” she stresses the number. “The guy’s a sucker for you, and he's not even scared of announcing it via his very publicly lovesick posts.”
Eddie hadn’t noticed that, to be honest. It makes sense Buck’s got a lot of pictures of him — after all, they’ve spent the better part of the past six, seven years together. He’s always snapping pictures everywhere they go, even when it’s nowhere remotely interesting. I just want to be able to look back at this and remember how happy I was, Buck told him once, after taking a photo of vanilla ice cream smeared all over Eddie’s mustache.
“That barely means anything,” he argues weakly.
“Sure,” says Lena, definitely not meaning it. “Just don’t forget to send me the wedding invitation, okay?”
And Eddie can’t take the teasing any longer, so he fights back.
“So, why did you break up with your ex?”
For the first time that night, Lena closes in on herself. Moves all her hair over her shoulder and threads her fingers through it in thought.
“We’d been together almost four years,” she starts quietly. “There are expectations that come with such a long-term relationship, y’know? She’d been hinting heavily at wanting to get married, but I couldn’t get there. Not because I didn’t want to marry her. But all I could think about was that, if we were to have a wedding, it’d have to be a quiet thing. I wouldn’t be able to invite my parents, for one. And— I want my parents at my wedding, Eddie,” she nearly pleads.
Eddie’s heart sinks in his chest. He thinks about the unanswered voicemails from his parents that he hasn’t dared to open yet, fearing the worst, probably rightfully so. Thinks about the snides and slurs he heard growing up in a Catholic school, ones his parents indulged in at the privacy of their home. And he gets Lena’s ache, in a fundamental way.
“I’m sorry,” he says, earnestly. “But do you think—?” He tries, then deflates. “Never mind, it’s not my place.”
“Just say it,” Lena urges on, blinking erratically.
Eddie hits the ball haphazardly and two fall into the pockets. Damn it, why now?
He straightens up, meeting his friend’s beseeching gaze.
“You love her, right?” he asks, and hesitantly, Lena nods. “Isn’t that love worth so much more than the approval of your parents? If you live your life on their terms, it’s no longer your life. Just a script that you’re following.”
Lena’s bottom lip quivers. She looks down, blinking away a tear. Eddie’s a little lost. He’s never seen Lena — tough, competent Lena — cry over anything in the short-lived friendship they had. Not even when she’d believed her Captain was swept away in the tsunami.
And that reminds him…
“What if you were to invite your old Cap instead?” he suggests. “He was like a father to you, right? Kind of like Bobby is a pseudo-father to Buck.”
“I guess so,” Lena says wetly, wiping at her eyes. “He was the first person at my station I came out to, actually. Gave me hell for feeling like he wouldn’t accept me and taking so long to do it. Affectionately, of course,” she adds with a laugh. “And Melanie… He was rooting for us.”
“So,” starts Eddie, rounding the table to approach her. Lena doesn’t retreat, but she looks like she wants to. “How about you quit pretending that you came out here to pick someone up, when it’s clear as day you just want Melanie back?”
Lena watches him for a good minute before faintly slamming his shoulder.
“I hate you, Diaz.” She doesn’t mean it, of course. In fact, she looks grateful. “Got me weeping at a bar after a singular beer. I’m supposed to be stronger than this.”
“And you are,” he promises. “Take it from someone who was taught, same as you, that emotions shouldn’t be revealed. They should be. Should be encouraged, actually. So, who gives a damn if you weep at a bar?”
“I also hate it when you’re right,” she concludes, relaxing her posture. Eddie hadn’t realized she’d gotten so worked up. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom to clean my face. You gonna stay here or flee me?”
“Stay,” he assures. “Take your time.”
And so, Lena disappears into the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone at the pool table, not knowing what to do with his hands. When he finishes his beer, he touches around his pockets to pull out his phone.
Above another voicemail from his mother, there are a few erratic texts from Buck.
He breathes in deeply, and opens them.
Buck ❤️🔥
—
10:11PM
sorry for acting weird since, y’know. I’ve been freaking out a little and trying to rearrange my brain cells.
but I broke up with Tommy earlier this week. so, can we talk?
also, I have your location on and can see where you are. please do not try to pick someone up?
Bewildered, Eddie reads the messages over and over, until the hinted at meaning behind them sinks in. Oh, Lena is going to make so much fun of him when she gets back from freshening up.
Don’t worry. I’m just failing at being a wingman for a friend, he texts back.
Buck’s reply is nearly instantaneous.
phew. breakfast tomorrow? I can cook for us.
And Eddie has never craved anything quite as fiercely as this.
So, when he texts back, he allows himself to be a little sappy.
You’re on.
:)
❤ :)
