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Buck was trying not to go insane. That was the thing, he was really trying not to go insane.
If he was smarter, he probably would’ve seen this eventuality coming much more clearly. Unfortunately, Buck had fallen into the same old Buck patterns.
He’d found someone that he liked, someone that made him feel worth something, something that made his life better, and he’d let himself get comfortable and safe in that.
He’d let himself feel like there was a world in which this was a forever kind of thing.
He was safe and happy because all that he’d ever wanted was someone to stay, and for better or for worse, it seemed like the good things were actually… staying.
For the most part, anyway.
Sure, their entire team and almost all of their partners had been dead or close to it in the last decade, and their children had faced a lot too.
And sure, Buck himself had faced more almost death than most people ever would in their lives, including their actual deaths, but still. A win was a win.
Buck loved his family and his life and his friends and for the most part, he was pretty okay with the way things were.
All the suffering had been worth it.
And yeah, he still couldn’t hold down a romantic relationship to save his life, but what did that matter when he had what he had? When he had a family so warm and loving and he had friends that he cared about and he got to watch Jee-Yun grow up knowing there was another child coming soon.
All in all, even despite the Tommy of it all, Buck was… good. Buck was content.
And then Eddie said that he was going to leave.
And yeah, Christopher being gone had ached something severe, like losing a limb and still being able to feel the phantom presence of it but never really touch it or see it. But Buck had never given up hope that Christopher would decide to go home. That something would fit right or some words would travel right and Christopher would come home. Things would settle and be back where they belonged.
Eddie hadn’t talked to him much about it, and Buck hadn’t pried.
He was trying to be kind. He was trying to be respectful of the space that Eddie might want or need. He was trying to be respectful of all the things that he didn’t or couldn’t understand, given that he wasn’t Christopher’s father. He wasn’t Eddie’s partner. Christopher had a family. He had people.
If his texts were anything to be, he didn’t really want Buck there anyway. He sent memes sometimes, but if Buck tried to ask anything more pressing, Christopher stopped answering.
It made sense, and Buck was too careful to push further.
But then Eddie had told him that he was leaving.
Looking for a house far away.
Every particle of Buck wanted to ask him to stay, but every particle of him knew better.
He’d spent forever begging people to stay, and he’d spent forever failing.
But he did this same thing every single time.
Maddie, Abby, Taylor, Tommy… Eddie.
He convinced himself that the people he loved were going to stay. That this time it was going to be different. That there was love and it meant that they were going to be okay.
And every single time, despite that hope, he got his heart broken.
And every single time, he swore to himself, through tears and gritted teeth, that next time would be different. Next time,he would go into it with his eyes wide open. Next time, he would know that he was going to be okay either way.
And every time, it was like everything shattered all over again. Like he was just too stupid to understand that nothing lasted forever. That he could want and want and want and want so badly and it didn’t mean that he was ever going to get. That maybe that was okay. That it had to be okay.
He would start all over convincing himself he was okay without anything stable. Without anything permanent. He would convince himself over and over that maybe he could take at least some of the values of Buck 1.0. That he could be okay with people leaving.
The problem was that Buck 1.0 had never really been okay with it either.
But he’d learned to play on his strengths. He’d learned be the guy who made it seem like he was perfectly fine with casual. The guy who asked a girl if he could call her after a hookup and didn’t react when she always, inevitably, told him no. Even when it was her telling him no and that she didn’t believe that a guy like him was genuine.
But Buck 1.0 had been good at pretending.
Evan Buckley, thirty-two, bisexual, firefighter, chronic dumpee, was good at pretending too.
So when the realtor showed Eddie virtual tours of nice, appropriate houses, Buck pretended to be cool with it.
When the realtor told him she had something perfect for him, in his budget and right around the corner from his parents and right near the firehouse he would be transferring to and…
Buck grinned and told Eddie that it sounded perfect, suggested that he could even fly over and help him decorate at some point if Eddie wanted.
The day that Eddie went to talk to Bobby, to tell him that he wanted to be transferred, Buck put on a smile, and got Eddie a coffee, and told him he was sure that Bobby would be supportive.
When Eddie booked his flight, Buck put on a smile and patted him on the shoulder and reassured him that he was doing the right thing, and that Christopher would be better off for having him.
The day that Eddie’s flight left, Buck picked him up bright and early, coffee already in the centre console, a bright smile on his face. He was wearing a nice sweater, and his hair was done, and he was determined that he would look fine no matter what. Eddie seemed convinced.
“So, what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back to El Paso?” Buck asked, too bright for how dimmed he felt on the inside.
But it was for Eddie. He could be sad once Eddie got on his flight.
For now, he was letting himself be Buck 1.0 again. Confident. Assured.
He could lie, if it was for Eddie.
Because Eddie deserved to be happy. It deserved to have his family back.
Buck was okay with this being his lot in life. He was here for Eddie. All of this was for Eddie.
Tomorrow, he would tell himself again that this time, he wouldn’t let himself believe that people were going to stay. He would delude himself into believing that things would be different.
He would play out the pattern again, because it was what he did.
For better or for worse, Buck was a dreamer. He was hopeful down to the very roots of him, down to the inner child that still believed one day his parents might look at him and see love instead of death.
That was tomorrow’s problem.
Today belonged to Eddie.
“Other than see my son?”
Buck nodded.
“Mm, I don’t know. Gotta be honest, I can’t stand the place. Maybe I’ll go to the park I used to go to drink beer as a teenager.”
Buck laughed, and Eddie seemed comforted by it. He was nervous, and Buck was ready to be the warmth for him. The comfort.
“Cute. I’m going to tell your son you drank illegally.” Buck teased, trying to ease his worries.
“He already knows.” Eddie admitted, and Buck gasped, playfully affronted. “He’s learned more about me there too, he’s living in my childhood bedroom. Although I’m not sure it looks anything like it did when I actually lived there.”
Buck reached over to pat his shoulder. “I wonder if he can smell the loser that clings to that bedroom.”
Eddie snorted, “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m right. We both know you were a quiet, pleasure-to-have-in-class, barely ever broke the rules, little Christian boy.” Buck teased him, totally playful about it.
“I’m not sure that’s the kind of kid who gets a girl pregnant right out of high school.”
Buck scoffed, “Please. That’s exactly the type. I was a whore with a motorbike in high school and I never got anyone pregnant.”
“Can’t all be God’s favourite.”
They both grinned, and Buck watched Eddie in the moments he waited for the light to change to green again.
“Pretty sure if either of us is being favoured, it’s the one with the best kid in the world, not the one who got hit by lightning.”
Eddie shrugged, “Pretty sure no one is favouring anyone.”
They trained off, but it was a comfortable silence.
When they pulled up there, Eddie took a sharp breath, obviously nervous. Buck got out of the car with him, even though it was a drop off only zone.
Just where he had left Abby.
God, it was just like when he had left Abby.
He’d promised that he’d wait for her. He’d felt like he was letting his heart walk away with her. He’d felt like she would bring it back to him. Felt certain he’d finally found the right thing. The good thing. He’d tried so hard to be the perfect, good boyfriend.
He wasn’t under any delusion this time. No part of him could promise that he would wait for Eddie, because no part of him believed Eddie would return. Not for him, not at all.
“You got this.” Buck told Eddie, bracketing Eddie’s shoulders with his hands as he tried to instil some confidence into him. He could be broken later— but right then, he was there to keep Eddie from falling apart.
“Buck…” Eddie was breathless. “I know you’ve been… so supportive. The real estate and driving me and… you’ve been a great support system and I just… all those years ago, I said you could have my back any day. I really didn’t… realise at the time. But you’ve done it. Had my back, I mean. Every day since then…” He wet his lips. “I just… thank you.”
Buck cleared his throat, stepping back from Eddie’s words because if he heard them, he’d get sad. He couldn’t think about it later. For now, he could just be kind. He could just be a good friend. Maddie would be ready with a hug and a very cute daughter later. He had already asked if he could go to her house later and she had already assured him that he could.
“We don’t have to do this.” Buck said quickly, “It’s not like we don’t have facetime and text and email and shit. It’s not like we can’t visit.”
Eddie nodded, a bit shaky. “Right.”
“Right.”
He took a step back then, holding his bag. He wasn’t taking much, had put things in storage or thrown away most things that he owned. Had some being sent to himself later. “You’re right. It doesn’t have to be a big sad goodbye.”
He looked at Eddie, and he looked at the glass doors, and he saw Abby’s face. He saw it and he had to look away.
Eddie was worse. Losing Eddie was so much worse.
“Alright. You’re right. No sad goodbyes. I’ll call you on the other side anyway.”
Buck nodded, and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Passport?”
Eddie patted his pocket and nodded once.
“Wallet?” He nodded.
“Keys.” Nod.
“Underwear?”
“Buck.” He smiled then, and so did Eddie, and it all felt a little too real.
Tomorrow. The sun would rise, and he would stay in bed and let himself mourn. He’d be heartbroken tomorrow.
“Okay. Have a good flight.” He pulled Eddie into a hug, but kept it so short that Eddie barely had time to hug him back. It was too big of a risk, and he wasn’t willing to get emotional for this.
“Have a good drive home.”
And then Eddie walked through the glass doors.
Buck wanted to stand and watch him disappear over those escalators, but he wouldn’t let himself. Not this time. Not again.
Eddie was fading from his life, and Buck was going to let him go gracefully.
Because he loved Eddie too much. He loved Christopher too much. He refused to let himself be selfish.
Not with Eddie.
He turned back to his car, and he took a deep breath. He wouldn’t watch Eddie leave. He would be the adult. He would let him go.
He had just begun to climb back in the car when he heard Eddie calling his name, quick and urgent.
“Buck!”
He stopped dead, turning back.
Eddie was sprinting.
Why the hell was Eddie sprinting? Had he forgotten something?
Eddie kept getting closer, and Buck had no idea what was happening.
For one confusing second, he thought Eddie was about to tackle him, and he wondered if they were in the eye of yet another natural disaster?
Eddie crashed into him and Buck crashed into the car and he wondered hysterically if he had done something to offend Eddie, even as he began to register just how much of Eddie was touching him.
Because yeah, he was very familiar with what Eddie felt like. He’d felt Eddie’s body against him when he was shot. When disasters had hit. When buildings had collapsed. In laughing hugs and tearful ones alike.
But he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this before, because something inside his mind noted stupidly that Eddie’s lips were on his.
They were there and they weren’t doing much, but Buck was hyper aware of them. He was hyper aware that they were soft and a bit chapped and that he could feel Eddie’s hands hard against his chest.
Neither of them was moving.
It was like the hysteria of the moment had frozen them in place and… it almost wasn’t even a kiss. They were held in place, frozen in a moment of limbo.
Because in a moment, this would end. In a moment, the fragile moment would shatter.
Hummingbirds flapped their wings more than four thousand times in a minute, but Buck was pretty sure his heart was beating faster.
Just a moment would decide what happened. Because right then, their relationship existed in a vacuum. Checkhov’s kiss. Schroedinger’s kiss. Kiss ex machina. He had no idea what he was talking about.
He only knew that they were living in a fleeting moment where at any second, everything would change. Eddie might shove him off and say it had been an accident (although Buck had no idea how). Or maybe he’d run again.
But he was leaving. The moment was a snowflake, too small and too evanescent to last.
Eddie was going to leave, and Buck couldn’t ask him to stay.
He pulled back, and it hadn’t really been a kiss at all.
It hadn’t really been a kiss at all, and somehow it was the most intimate of Buck’s life.
Because it was Eddie. It was Eddie and he was the best thing Buck had ever held.
He was flawed and he was leaving and he was breaking Buck’s heart, but nothing would ever mean more to him than the Diaz boys.
Eddie pulled back, and Buck was struck with the second lightning bolt of his life.
Eddie.
Eddie, big brown eyes and floppy brown hair and the mole on the left side of his neck.
Eddie, loving father and technophobe and terrible liar.
Eddie, who stole his phone and danced in his underwear and yelled at him in a supermarket.
It was Eddie, and that knowledge was the best and worst surprise of his life.
It was Eddie, and Eddie was leaving.
“Don’t do that.” Buck said quickly, eyes squeezing shut to avoid looking at Eddie. He could see him even with his eyes closed. Cheeks flushed pink, eyes wide, lips parted. He could picture him so clearly and so fondly that he couldn’t believe it had only just clicked.
Whatever defence he had prepared, Eddie didn’t hear it.
“I’m coming back.” He muttered back, as if that was a direct answer to Buck’s comment.
“What?”
Eddie sighed heavily, and leaned closer again. His lips were a breath from Buck’s, like he was trying to make him understand. Trying to force him to understand without kissing him again, giving Buck a chance to push away. To say no. He seemed certain that Buck wouldn’t.
“Tell me no.”
Buck’s breath caught. “What are you doing, Eddie?”
“Is it a no?”
“No.” Buck breathed.
“No?”
“No, it’s not a no.”
“What?”
Buck kissed Eddie this time. He tried for softer this time. He tried for real this time. He tried to make it good, tried to make it irresistible, tried to kiss so well that Eddie would want to come home.
Eddie, for his part, muttered against Buck’s lips. “Stop thinking.”
Buck did.
He let himself sink into Eddie, let his mouth open, let his tongue slide sweetly across Eddie’s. He tasted his lips and he had concept of where or who he was in the world because there was Eddie. Eddie’s fingernails digging into Buck’s chest. Eddie’s heart pounding against his.
Buck had tried to let him go, and Eddie had held on anyway.
How many times had Buck gripped someone tightly and hoped they would do the same back? How many times had they let him go?
Buck had never had someone choose to hold him back before. To stay before.
It felt vaguely like his favourite kinds of dream, the one where he woke up all warm and soft and wishing he could go back to sleep, to the place where he felt real love.
He felt real love in Eddie’s urgent grip.
“I’m coming back, Buck. I know you’re being all brave about it, but I’m coming back.”
“But you—”
“I’m renting the house. Someone’s renting my house. I’m coming back, Buck. I am. I will find a way to come back.”
“I can’t ask you to.”
“You’re not. I’m telling you. I’m coming back for you, Buck.”
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Buck whispered, a bit distracted, forehead against Eddie’s.
“A priest told me to drink juice. It’s a whole thing.”
Buck was confused, but he figured Eddie would explain when he had the time.
“I’m coming back. And until then, we can have FaceTime dates. Or— or long phone calls. You can tell me about your day while you fall asleep, I just— don’t go thinking this is done, Buck. This isn’t done. This will never be done.”
Buck blinked, and his vision was a little blurry.
But Eddie was already running off again. He was running late, and Buck knew that, but he could hear Eddie’s voice echoing in his head.
This isn’t done. This will never be done.
He doubted it was the best kiss they were capable of having, but he imagined the one where they reunited would be even better.
When he dialled Maddie’s number in his car, he almost didn’t notice he was doing it. When he told her, with a giggle slipping loose between words, that Eddie had kissed him, he barely realised what he was saying.
He felt like he was made of love. Like he was made of the kind of love he’d always wanted.
He’d stood at those doors and promised Abby he would wait for her.
This time, Buck didn’t. He didn’t beg, he didn’t ask.
Eddie had been desperate. Desperate to make sure Buck knew he was coming home. That he wasn’t giving up on him.
For once in his life, Buck thought, someone was as determined not to lose him as he was not to lose them.
When Maddie breathed a sigh of relief and told him ‘finally’, he was far too happy to even question it.
For once in his life, Buck had watched someone walk away from him and hadn’t had to pretend to be okay. Because for once in his life, Buck could actually trust that they were coming home to him.