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“Oh my god. Oh no . Oh no .”
Buck is freaking out. He’s also vaguely aware of how embarrassing this is, which isn’t helping the whole freaking the fuck out situation.
“Buck, don’t freak out,” Bobby suggests.
Bobby! His boss! Father figure and his captain of eight years, Bobby, who just had to pain-stakingly walk him to the door of the most obvious, horrifying revelation of Buck’s idiotic, oblivious life.
“I’m definitely going to freak out. I’m in love with Eddie!”
“I know,” Bobby offers calmly, which is half of the problem.
How did Bobby know, and Buck not know?? More importantly, what is he supposed to do about this?
He looks at Bobby — feels insane — knows it must be reflected in his face. Bobby, like always, is steady.
He paces. He paces the length of Bobby’s living room three times. Bobby remains steady.
“What do I do with that??” He asks — begs, even.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Bobby says, steady. Always steady. “You should take some time to process.”
Buck whips around to look at him. Feels like a wild animal.
“And, what? Just walk around knowing I’m in love with Eddie and not tell anyone I’m in love with Eddie??”
Bobby nods slowly.
“Well, yeah. That’s an option.”
“Is it???” Buck squeaks.
Bobby stops him in his tracks with a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“Buck. Just breathe.”
Buck lets out a long breath. It is decidedly not steady.
“He’s gonna know. I’m gonna be weird.”
The corner of Bobby’s mouth twitches in a way Buck’s come to recognize as amused but staying professional.
“He might not. You don’t have to be weird.”
Buck sighs an admittedly dramatic sigh.
“Bobby, we both know I’m going to be so weird.”
Buck knows they both know that, in the same way Bobby knows he has no chance of convincing Buck that’s not true. It just is. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Buck is going to be weird.
“Okay, so why don’t you take some time away from Eddie while you process your feelings,” he suggests instead.
Buck looks at him like he’s lost his mind.
“Then he’ll definitely know!”
Bobby frowns.
“You never go, what? 24 hours without contacting each other?”
Buck snorts.
“If he didn’t message me for 4 hours I would break the door down,” he admits.
Now Bobby looks a little less steady. He looks a little bewildered.
“Okay. Okay. And you really didn’t kn - - Okay . Well, maybe you talk to him?”
“And say what ?”
Bobby sighs.
“I can’t tell you what to do here, Buck.”
Buck is losing his mind. He is losing his mind.
“What about what you’d do?” He begs. “Can you tell me what you’d do?”
Bobby blinks at him.
“What would I do if I had feelings for a long-time friend and coworker?”
“Yes!”
Bobby raises a brow.
“Buck. I married her.”
Oh. Right. So he did.
“ Right . Right. Yes. And it was - - it was good. It went well,” Buck nods, mostly to himself. “I guess the only thing standing between me and marrying the love of my life is hundreds of years of heteronormative societal expectations and a sprinkle of catholic guilt. Or, you know, he’s probably just super straight after all and this will be so embarrassing and I’ll set bisexual progress back 20 years by being in love with my straight best friend. It’s good, it’s good, it’s fine.”
He’s spiraling. He’s definitely spiraling.
“Buck,” Bobby’s voice breaks through the spiral. He puts a hand on his shoulder and ducks his head to meet Buck’s crazed eyes. “My advice? Take some time to figure out what you want. Then, talk to Eddie.”
He makes it 32 minutes without talking to Eddie. He’s back at the loft, spiraling in the privacy of his own home, when his phone buzzes. He already knows who it is.
Eddie: what’re you cooking for dinner and why is it that good chicken with the sweet potatoes?
Eddie: my kitchen is available and has all the ingredients!
Eddie: crazy coincidence
Buck: wish I could but having dinner at Maddie’s
Eddie: :(
Eddie: tomorrow?
Buck: you should cook it tonight and send me a photo
Eddie: it’s not as good when I make it
Buck: you can’t pull the bad cook excuse anymore, Linda changed you
Eddie: what’s the point of weaponized incompetence if your best friend turns the weapon around on you and your sweet potatoes?
Buck: should’ve thought about that before you added good cook to your already impressive list of competencies
Eddie: weird way to say I’m good at everything and it’s hot
Buck: I didn’t say that why would I say that
Eddie: it’s a joke, Buck
Buck: right, sorry. Weird day.
Eddie: you okay?
Buck: will be I think
Eddie: want to talk about it?
Buck: I think I will, but not yet
Eddie: you know where to find me
Eddie: how do you make the sweet potatoes so good
Buck: I use a little maple syrup in the sauce
Eddie: !!!! I can’t believe you were keeping this from me
Buck: I can’t have you leaving me for a best friend with better sweet potatoes
Eddie: never
Eddie: have fun with Maddie
Eddie: here if you need me
After a long night of spiraling alone in his apartment, Buck needs to get out of the house. Baking helps, sometimes, when he needs a distraction, so he’s going to bake.
He waits until 10:00 on the dot to head to the good grocery store — it’s the only one with the candied nuts he likes and needs for baking, but it’s also the one most likely to contain Eddie. Conveniently, Eddie has a Zoom call with Chris every Saturday at 10am.
He grabs a basket and heads for the baking aisle. He needs more flour, more sugar, and fresh baking powder, just in case (he’s one slight inconvenience away from a mental breakdown, so, these cookies need to rise).
He passes the pasta aisle and knows he’s losing his mind because he could swear that man looks exactly like Eddie. Which isn’t possible, because Eddie is talking to Chris. It’s Saturday at 10am. He’s talking to Chris.
The man that looks a lot like Eddie but isn’t because it’s a Saturday at 10am looks up, makes eye contact, grins, and says “Buck!”. Which is a wild coincidence. Buck keeps moving.
He passes the cereal aisle and it’s possible someone is calling his name. It’s hard to tell, it’s loud in here. The lights are loud in here too, which is weird. What’s up with that?
He finally makes it to the baking aisle when someone, he has no idea who, grabs him by the shoulders.
“Buck! Buck? Dude!” Someone remarkably similar to Eddie says. Buck turns around. It’s Eddie. Definitely Eddie. Eddie, who is narrowing his eyes at him. “Are you ignoring me?”
Buck barks out a surprised laugh. It sounds wrong. It’s too loud, too sharp. Eddie flinches.
“Eddie! What! No! What’re you doing here?”
Eddie’s smiling and frowning at him in a way he’s only ever seen Eddie do.
“Buying groceries?” Eddie responds.
“Right!” Buck nods. “You’re so good at that.”
Eddie frown frowns, now.
“Thank you?”
He’s being weird. Eddie can tell he’s being weird. He needs to shake it off.
“Sorry. Sorry. Um. I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you were Zooming with Chris?”
Change the subject! Nailed it!
Eddie shrugs.
“He rescheduled. Some kid’s birthday party.”
Buck nods. He’s going to find out who that kid is and send him coal for his next birthday.
“Very cool.”
Eddie looks at him like he’s trying to decipher something. Buck feels itchy.
“Is it?”
“Not - - not very cool for you, I mean just. Cool that he’s making friends. Not that - - not that we want him to make friends there. Well, not that we don’t want him to have friends, obviously - -“
“Buck,” Eddie cuts him off.
“He’s a friendly kid,” Buck says to the supermarket floor.
“He is.”
“He’s a cool, friendly kid.”
No one says anything for a beat, then Eddie appears in his eyeline — he’s ducking his head and forcing Buck to catch his eye.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes! Totally normal.”
Eddie’s face makes it clear that he does not believe him.
“How’s Maddie?”
“Why? What’s wrong with Maddie?”
Eddie blinks.
“Uh, nothing, I hope? Didn’t you have dinner last night?”
Fuck. This is why he hates lying to Eddie. He’s bad at it. He’s bad at it and Eddie can tell.
“Oh! Right! Yes! Maddie is also very normal.”
Eddie shakes his head, but he looks closer to amused than concerned, so Buck’s gonna take this one as a win.
“Okay… hey, you wanna come over later and talk to Chris?”
There is, actually, nothing he’d like more in the entire world, if not for the fact that he cannot be in the same room as his father right now.
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”
Eddie laughs. Squints. Buck feels like he’s suffocating.
“Since when have you been interrupting anything?”
“I - - you know. You only get to talk to him for a few hours, I don’t want to take up any Chris time.”
Eddie looks at him. It feels like he’s looking inside him, like he’s seeing too much.
“You miss him too, Buck.”
And that, well, that is true.
“Yeah.”
Eddie tilts his head, looks at him like a puppy trying to make sense of a new, weird sound.
“You’re never interrupting, okay? I don’t know what is happening with you right now, but you’re being very weird.”
He knew it. He knew he’d be weird and Eddie would notice. Why did Bobby let him leave his house — he should’ve put him in a soundproof, padded room somewhere for the rest of time. Or a tower! Like rapunzel. Jee would love that. She could come and visit.
He doesn’t say any of that out loud. Instead, he stares at Eddie blankly for a few beats too long to be comfortable and says:
“I’ll let you know if I can make it. I might not. I’m not sure. Busy, busy! You know how it is. Okay, I better go. Toodle-oo!”
And it’s all very normal and fine and not the least bit weird.
Eddie: okay what is going on you just said toodleoo to me out loud in public and then ran away
Eddie: I literally saw you sprinting to your car
Eddie: like a frightened giraffe
Buck: sorry I know I’m being weird but I’m trying not to be
Eddie: why are you being weird?
Buck: what if you send me guesses and I’ll tell you if you’re right
Eddie: Buck
Eddie: are you 12
Eddie: fine
Eddie: is it about Maddie?
Buck: no
Eddie: that’s good
Eddie: is it about work?
Buck: no
Eddie: Chris?
Buck: he’s involved
Eddie: he’s involved??
Eddie: did he call you?
Eddie: Buck is he okay? Did he tell you something he doesn’t want you to tell me?
Eddie: idk whether to take your silence as a yes
Eddie: it does make sense, that would make you weird
Eddie: you don’t have to tell me what he said I trust you
Eddie: but if he asked you to go get him you do have to tell me that I’m not onboard with you hiding my kid out in your apartment
Buck: Eddie I wouldn’t kidnap your child
Eddie: I don’t think it’s kidnapping if he wants to be there
Eddie: or is it? Wait did my parents technically kidnap him? You should go down a Google hole and lmk
Eddie: feels like it probably doesn’t work like that
Buck: they didn’t I already checked when he left
Buck: its not about Chris
Eddie: it’s not?
Buck: no sorry I didn’t mean to get your hopes up
Eddie: no it’s fine I guess I got my own hopes up
Eddie: I’m the one badgering you
Eddie: should I keep guessing?
Buck: probably not
Buck: tell Chris I say hi
Eddie: okay, will do
Eddie: you can talk to me, you know
Eddie: when you’re ready
Buck: I know
It has been exactly 44 hours since Buck was informed that he is in love with Eddie, and things are going just peachy.
For example, he’s about to spend the following 24 hours attached at the hip with Eddie at their shared place of employment. Contractually obligated to be in the same room, same engine, same burning building as him and not be weird about it.
You might even say he’s contractually fucked.
He’s staring at their collection of coffee mugs (because his favorite mug is right next to Eddie’s favorite mug and their mug handles are overlapping like they’re holding mug hands) when Eddie appears behind him.
“Hey!” Eddie says cheerfully. Buck jumps out of his bones. “Chris says hello.”
Buck breathes. Grabs two different mugs, leaves their favorite mugs holding hands.
“How’s he doing?”
Eddie frowns at the mugs in Buck’s hands, but accepts the one he holds out for him.
“Good, I think. He’s feeling a little less frosty. I’m thinking of flying out for a few days on our next weekend off.”
And this is - - this is huge news.
“Oh yeah? To go get him?”
“We’ll see. Maybe just to talk and give him a proper hug. I don’t want to push him, but I don’t want him to forget how much I love him, you know? I want to show him that he’s missed. And I really want that hug.”
Buck’s heart constricts in his chest. It could be from how much he misses Chris, it could be from how much he loves this man and how much he loves his son. It’s probably both.
“Yeah. I miss his hugs.”
Eddie nudges his shoulder with his own.
“You should come.”
Buck picks up the coffee pot and fills up both their cups.
“What?”
“He’d want to see you. More than me, probably. You should come.”
Buck turns away. Heads to the fridge, spends longer than he ever has trying to find the oat milk.
“I can’t. I can’t do that.”
When he turns back, oat milk in hand, Eddie’s tilting his head at him again. Studying him.
“Why not?”
“Plans,” Buck shrugs. He pours oat milk into both of their mugs.
Eddie blinks. Frowns.
“You have plans?”
He puts the oat milk back in the fridge. Stays there a few seconds too long.
“So many, yeah.”
He doesn’t want to turn around and see the look on Eddie’s face.
“Right. Okay. That’s fine, I guess,” Eddie says. He sounds confused. Hurt, too, probably.
Buck can’t do this, actually. He spins on his heels, abandons his coffee, and heads for the steps.
“Sorry. Hey. I have to go, um, get something from down there,” he says, pointing to the general vicinity of the locker room.
But the locker room is see-through and he needs to have a breakdown so instead he marches very confidently down the steps and into the supply closet, shuts the door, and crumples.
He couldn’t tell you how long he’s been sitting on the floor of the supply closet, but it has certainly been too long. They’d both arrived early, so their shift hasn’t technically started yet, and the previous shift is still out on a call. Plus, Buck’s pretty sure Bobby would understand if he came flying out of the supply closet at the sound of the alarm. He probably wouldn’t even blink. Might, even, give the look to anyone who did try to say anything.
These are extenuating circumstances, is the thing. So, he’s really not that worried about how long he’s been in here.
At some point, he hears the others arrive. Muffled hellos and updates about their days off. Multiple times, he hears Eddie ask someone if they’ve seen him. He’s quite confident that no one has.
This time, Eddie’s voice is considerably clearer and closer — he’s standing near the supply closet.
“Ravi, you seen Buck?” he hears Eddie ask.
“No, man, haven’t seen him,” Ravi says.
He hears footsteps fade and thinks he might be safe. But then a sigh. A deep, deep sigh that he would recognize anywhere.
“I swear to god if he’s still in that cupboard I’m going to lose my mind,” Eddie says, to himself, Buck guesses, and then he hauls open the door.
He looks at Buck — sitting on the floor, hugging his knees, red eyes and messy hair, and he sighs.
“Jesus Christ, Buck.”
Buck wipes quickly at his snotty face — panics — looks around for an excuse.
“Eddie! I was just - -“
Eddie puts out a hand.
“Save it. Please.”
He walks inside, shuts the door, and sits down beside him. It’s dark. It’s close quarters.
He doesn’t say anything, so Buck figures he probably should.
“I - -“
Eddie cuts him off.
“Please don’t lie to me again.”
Buck drops his head back onto his knees, pulls them tighter against his chest.
“Okay. Sorry.”
“You’ve been weird.” Eddie says. It’s a statement, not a question.
“I know.”
“Are you going to keep being weird forever?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s about me.”
“Kind of.”
“It’s about you?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s about me and you?”
“Yeah.”
“Try me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons.”
He hears Eddie take a deep breath.
“Okay. So, from where I’m sitting — which is on the floor of a very small supply closet at our place of work, by the way — it sounds like your options are either be weird forever, or tell me the thing.”
“Yeah,” Buck croaks. “I guess you better get used to it.”
Eddie knocks his knee against Buck’s.
“Buck. I’m sitting on the floor of a supply closet and everyone knows we’re both in here. If you need to be weird, I’d be weird with you forever.”
Buck’s heart is crawling up his chest.
“ Eddie ,” he chokes.
“But. There’s also nothing you could tell me that would change that. So, I’m thinking, you just tell me why you’re being weird, and worst case scenario, we keep on being weird, but we do it together.”
Buck can’t help but bark out a bitter laugh.
“That is not the worst case scenario.”
Eddie nudges him twice with his elbow.
“What is?”
“I’m in love with you.” He says it fast. Rips it off like a bandaid. Stabs it through the fabric of their friendship like a knife.
He hears Eddie’s sharp inhale. He doesn’t dare move, or breathe, or twitch, until Eddie says something.
It takes a minute, then he says:
“That’s not the worst case scenario either.”
“It sure feels like it.”
“It’s not.”
Buck sighs.
“You’re straight, Eddie. And you’re my best friend. You’re my straight best friend and I’m a living, breathing bisexual stereotype.”
And then something utterly unhinged happens. Eddie starts giggling.
He’s giggling. He stops giggling, takes a breath as if to say something, then starts giggling again.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’re in a closet ,” he says, as if that explains anything.
Buck opens his mouth to say something, but he’s so completely lost. There’s something so contagious about Eddie’s laugh, though, that it’s making him smile, too.
“ What? ” he laughs, hitting Eddie with the back of his hand. Eddie grabs it. Holds it.
“I’m not straight, Buck,” he breathes. “Frank has been dragging me out of the closet kicking and screaming, only for me to end up on the floor of another one, apparently.”
Buck snorts. Eddie squeezes his hand. Buck is bowled over, suddenly, by all the implications.
“Okay. Okay, so - - what does that mean?” he asks, careful. Careful . He has to be sure.
“Buck,” Eddie laughs.
“What?”
“Are you really going to make me tell you I’m in love with you on the floor of the station supply closet?”
And if Buck was bowled over before, that sentence wipes him off the face of the earth.
“ You knew?? ” he gasps.
Eddie laughs, brings Buck’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to his palm.
“Did you not know?”
“No! Bobby told me! It was embarrassing!”
Eddie huffs out another laugh. Buck feels the air of it against his hand.
“Frank told me. It was also embarrassing.”
Holy shit. Holy shit .
He pulls his hand away from Eddie, backing up as far away from him as he can get in the very tiny space.
“Oh my god. Okay, no, don’t say it. And don’t kiss me!”
“I’m getting whiplash here, Buck.”
And whoops , yep, that’s on him.
“Yet! Don’t say it and don’t kiss me yet . We’re gonna be telling this story for the rest of our lives, it cannot be this pathetic,” he clarifies.
Eddie laughs. It’s Buck’s favorite sound.
“Yeah, good call. Definitely needs less storage closet floor time.”
“Did you make the chicken?” Buck asks, because this is important. It’s suddenly the most important question in the world.
“No, I ordered pizza and was sad about you avoiding me.”
Oof. That little tidbit knocks the wind out of him.
“Oh. Eddie .”
Eddie reaches across the dark and squeezes his knee.
“It’s fine, I’m over it. You’ll come back to mine? We’ll make the sweet potatoes?”
“Yeah. Like a real date.”
“Does that mean we’ve been dating this entire time?”
“No. This’ll be different. We’ll light candles.”
“I don’t need candles.”
“Fine, we’ll make out while the chicken’s cooking.”
“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”
“Okay. Great. And until then, we’ll just be normal.”
“You’re gonna be weird, Buck.”
“Yep, definitely.”
“We’ve been in here a while,” Eddie notes. “They’re gonna think we’ve been… defacing the storage cupboard.”
“Absolutely, yep. But what’s important for the story is that we haven’t .”
When they emerge, no one says anything. Buck has a feeling Bobby threatened them with something if they did. Whatever the threat is, it clearly isn’t strong enough to stop them from throwing looks at them for the rest of the shift.
At one point, Bobby nods at Eddie. Eddie shoots Buck a wide-eyed, panicked glance. Buck shrugs.
Admittedly, they’re both weird for the rest of the shift.
The next morning, Buck follows Eddie home. He pretends not to see him pull over to buy flowers from the flower stand, and acts surprised when Eddie presents him with a bouquet of sunflowers.
“These always remind me of you,” he says, seeming shy for the first time since he found him in the supply closet.
Buck fumbles through a thank you, explains that no one has ever bought him flowers before, and leaves Eddie standing in the doorway to go and put them in a vase.
It’s very sweet, and a little awkward, and that seems to set the tone for the morning.
Everything is just… a little awkward.
In their defense, they’re not running on a lot of sleep. They’re fresh off a life-altering 24 hour shift, and every move feels very significant right now. In fact, Buck feels like he’s choking on how much significance is in the air.
30 tension-filled minutes later, as Buck tries to awkwardly shuffle past Eddie on his way back from the bathroom, Eddie breaks.
“I’m being weird,” he announces. “We’re both being weird.”
Buck lets out a breath he’s been holding since they left the station.
“Yes, holy shit. Sorry. I just - - I think I’ve built it up into this big thing in my head now, and I want it to be perfect. You deserve that,” he admits.
“ Buck, ” Eddie breathes, and pushes him against the wall of the hallway. Their mouths collide. Buck’s back must hit a door, because it swings open and they follow. Mouths and chests pressed together until they’re backed against something solid.
Buck moans into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie gasps. It’s hungry hands and hot mouths and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
When Eddie breaks from the kiss to move his attention to the skin of Buck’s neck, Buck blinks his eyes open.
They’re in Christopher’s room.
He tightens his grip on Eddie’s arms. Eddie looks up at him, confused, then registers where they are, eyes wide.
“We can never tell him we did this here,” Eddie announces.
Buck nods.
“You know, maybe we just go with the storage cupboard story after all?”
“We can workshop it,” Eddie agrees.
He grabs hold of Buck’s hips and pulls him out of Christopher’s doorway, planting them back in the safety of the hallway.
“Should we keep up the theme?” Eddie asks. “Where’s the worst place I can tell you I love you?”
And Buck actually can’t wait anymore. He doesn’t need perfect, he just needs now.
“Here,” he breathes. “I’ve always hated this patch of floor.”
Eddie grins.
“I love you, Buck. I’m in love with you. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, actually, and I did try. So, if it’s okay with you, I’m gonna be in love with you for the rest of my life.”
Buck closes his eyes, for a moment. Waits for the dream to come to a crashing end. Waits to wake up in his loft, lovesick and hopeless. He doesn’t.
“Fuck, Eddie, that was so much better than whatever I said.”
Eddie smiles, leans forward and kisses him.
“It’s okay, we can just make up a whole new story. We’ll give you a really good speech.”
Buck shakes his head.
“No. No, I like this one. It’s messy and backwards and involves a lot of time in closets — it’s perfect. It’s us.”
Eddie plants a kiss over his birthmark. Another on the very tip of his nose.
“We really can’t tell Chris about the kissing, though. He’ll never come home.”
They take a nap and Buck sleeps better than he ever has in his life. Later, they make the good chicken with the good sweet potatoes and they do some good making out in the middle of it. If it takes twice as long as usual, that’s no one’s business.
And on their next weekend off, they both visit Christopher in Texas. They do not tell him about the location of their first kiss, and they never will.
When they get home from their trip, Buck makes the good sweet potatoes again (he has
perfected
them, if he says so himself) and Eddie sets the table for three.