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Eddie liked it when Buck laid his weight on him. After a long and tiring shift, Eddie would pull Buck on top of him and into the couch. Buck was all too pleased to follow, loving how Eddie hooked both his arms and legs along the length of his body. Buck got to lay his head on his chest and feel its rise and fall along with the soft thump of his heartbeat. Sleep tiptoed to the edges of his consciousness. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump, and warmth clinging to him allowed Buck to succumb to sleep only for the shrill ring of Eddie’s phone to cut through.
Buck kept his eyes shut as Eddie groaned. He felt him shift to reach blindly for the phone he threw onto the coffee table. His other hand splayed itself in Buck’s curls, massaging his scalp in tender circles. “Hello.” Eddie’s voice sent small vibrations through his body. Buck snuggled in closer. “Yeah,” he heard Eddie say, the person on the other side too quiet for Buck to hear. “Yeah, I know.” Buck almost drifted off again when—
“My husband makes the best cookies. I’m sure he’ll—”
Pause.
Did Eddie—
My husband?
The lightheaded rush to his head shouldn’t feel as gentle as it did, but it fell over him like a hum, blanketing him in a warmth that he only felt with Eddie.
Husband.
Eddie called Buck his husband. It might have been a slip of the tongue. Eddie hadn’t acknowledged the fact, but he said it.
Husband. His husband. Eddie’s husband.
They have only been dating for three weeks now. They never had the talk about what label they were putting on it. Buck still hadn’t called Eddie his boyfriend, but here Eddie was, so easily calling Buck his husband. It was like it was the most natural thing in the world. Was this something that Eddie wanted? Did he want it now? Buck would be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Because he did, almost every night they fell asleep together, he dreamed.
He dreamed of watching Eddie walk down the aisle, Chris on his arm. He dreamed of standing in front of their friends and family and vowing to love and take care of Eddie for the rest of their lives. He dreamed of dipping Eddie into a slow kiss while everyone cheered. He always woke up in the morning with a smile on his face and then kissed the love of his life, silently promising him that Buck would make those dreams a reality.
It shouldn’t surprise him that Eddie wanted it as well. Eddie was adamant when they got together that this was it for him. He didn’t want anyone else, and until Buck was ready to make that big of a commitment, Eddie would wait. Buck was ready the minute the words left Eddie’s mouth. He was ready the second Eddie became an option. He made that commitment when he pulled Eddie out of the dark crevices of his mind, when he accepted Eddie’s will, when he sought Carla out for Chris. Hell, he was committed since the moment Eddie smiled at him and told him he could have his back any day. And Buck wanted to for the rest of their lives.
“Alright, I’ll let him know.” A click, and then Eddie’s tossing the phone back on the table. He wrapped his arm back around Buck, squeezing slightly.
“What was that about?” Buck said into Eddie’s chest.
Eddie hummed. “Just Debbie’s mom asking if we’ll bring anything to the back sale. She had a recipe or something.” Eddie yawned. “I don’t know.”
“And the other thing?”
“What other thing?” Eddie mumbled. His heartbeat didn’t speed up like Buck expected it to. It stayed that steady thump, thump, thump. Like he had nothing to be worried about because if Eddie did want to get married right now, right this second, Buck would say yes. Maybe it was too early, but Eddie had ruined him for anyone else. He couldn’t imagine anyone else walking down the aisle.
Eddie’s breathing slowed as he drifted off. They did have an exhausting shift, and his mind was scrambled. Eddie always turned halfway incoherent when he was tired, so that husband could have been a slip of the tongue. But by God, did Buck want to one day make it a reality, purposeful conviction and commitment.
My husband .
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Buck bought a ring right after their first date.
The only reason Buck hadn’t followed Eddie inside that night was because he wanted to uphold the three-date rule. This was Eddie’s first (and only if Buck had anything to say about it) experience with a man, so Buck was going to wine and dine him. Woo him. Show him how he deserved to be treated and show him that it was okay to want those things. So he had dropped Eddie off at the front of his house and had kissed him goodnight. When Buck declined Eddie’s invitation to come inside, Eddie pouted. Buck kissed his furrow out of his brow before Eddie drew him into a longer, drawn-out, and dirty kiss. He had almost caved that night, but he held out. And Eddie—Eddie didn’t get mad. He rolled his eyes and smiled at him with such fondness that Buck had to will himself not to cry.
Instead of going home like he should have, he had driven to the nearest open jewelry store. He found a small pawn shop that sold him a couple of catalogs. By the next morning, he had a ring ordered. Three days later, it was on his doorstep. Buck had stuffed it in his sock drawer, a drawer that he didn’t even use anymore. Most of his socks were at Eddie’s house anyway.
And as much as he wanted to drop to one knee every time he saw Eddie, he knew he had to wait a couple of months before he popped the question.
But Eddie seemed to have other plans.
He walked by the firehouse couch Buck and Hen occupied, phone to his ear as he chatted with a parent from the PTO. He dropped a kiss on Buck’s forehead, right above his left eye, as he passed by. “Yes, my husband and I will—”
The rush he got left him even more lightheaded this time. Eddie wasn’t tired and mumbling into the quiet of their home. They were in the firehouse, in public, in front of Hen.
“Did I hear that right?” Hen asked, tossing the magazine. “Did Eddie just call you his husband? Because you two better not have gotten married without telling us.”
Buck shook his head. “No, uh, I don’t know. Slip of the tongue, I guess.”
“That’s a hell of a slip.” Hen smirked. “Maybe he’s trying to tell you something.”
“Hen, it’s been three weeks.”
She scoffed. “It’s been seven years, and you don’t really believe you need to wait a year before you propose.”
Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a ring.”
Hen’s eyes widened. “Buck!”
“I want to. I really want to, but I can’t scare him off, Hen. You know I always move too fast, and the fact that I already have a ring will scare him off.”
“You don’t actually believe that.” She had said it in a matter-of-fact tone, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “That man is head over heels in love with you. I guarantee he is going to say yes before you even ask the question.” She jabbed her finger in the general direction of where Eddie disappeared. “Husband, Buck. That’s not a word you throw around lightly, not after everything he’s been through with his first marriage.”
The bell rang, thank God, because Buck couldn’t handle Hen putting this hope in him.
He knew Eddie wanted this, wanted them, but this fast?
Buck liked being a boyfriend. It was something he was good at, and he finally had it with someone that would one day be more. There was no need to rush it, even though sighing the name Buckley-Diaz would heal something irreparably broken in him. Seeing their names joined, linked by that hyphen, like they were linked by the immense love between them. Eddie Diaz would be his in every way, a person could be another person’s, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it being ripped from him.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
In Buck’s defense, the ceiling was supposed to be stable.
The 118 was called out to the scene of a kitchen fire that took on a life of its own. The flames consumed one of the walls and climbed their way up. A terrified woman—girl really—huddled in the corner, breathing sharp and ragged. In the midst of a panic attack, the girl wasn’t responding to their calls to move out of the room. Bobby tasked Buck with getting her out while the others took out the fire.
It was meant to be quick, in and out, but the house had other plans, and now Buck was tucked into a corner room in the hospital getting treated for first-degree burns from the heated plaster. Luckily, there were no broken bones or other debilitating injuries. Unluckily, Buck wasn’t allowed back on shift, but the others still had their three hours left. Eddie looked like he wanted to refuse, but he knew better.
When they came out to the rest of the team, Bobby made them promise that it wouldn’t affect their work performance. If it did, then he would be forced to separate them. So, as much as Buck wanted Eddie to be there and as much as Eddie wanted to be there, he had a shift to finish.
Since the hospital was at max capacity that day and due to the low-stakes nature of Buck’s injury, they placed him right outside the waiting room. He shifted in the plastic chair as the nice nurse cleaned out the cut on his forehead. “Now, you have a set,” she joked.
Before Buck could respond, Eddie rushed inside with a flurry of words, weaving his way to the receptionist. Buck tried to call out, but the nurse took that moment to dab the scrape with alcohol. Buck cried out. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” but she didn’t look too apologetic.
“Hi, yeah, I’m here to see my husband, Evan Buckley.”
Buck knew that the hospital took the mention of a spouse more seriously as compared to a boyfriend or girlfriend, but it still warmed him from the inside out. He barely registered the second sting, too occupied with the man that so easily called Buck his.
Eddie’s eyes lit up when they landed on Buck. He made a beeline for him, shaking his head when he got closer. “You’re a right idiot, you know that?” He still dropped a kiss into Buck’s curls. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
“Tis but a scratch,” was Buck’s stupid reply to the beautiful man smiling down at him. God, Buck was so stupidly in love with this man that even the sting of alcohol and burns was soothed by his presence. Buck’s body seemed to let go whenever he was around, telling him, It’s okay; he’s here; you can let go . And Buck did. He let go, and Eddie would catch him.
Shit.
It wasn’t even a life-threatening, near-death experience. A piece of plaster nicked him, and here he was thinking about popping the question right here. All because Eddie showed up, like he always did, like he always would.
That night, he moved the ring from his loft to Eddie’s house. He tucked it into the back corner of a kitchen cabinet. Spices and herbs from food experiments filled the cabinet. Buck always made his boys try whatever recipe he found, which had the ingredients from his more obscure creations sitting untouched. Eddie never looked in there.
He didn’t move it there because he was proposing anytime soon, but he had the itching feeling that he might need it.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
It kept happening.
Over and over again, Eddie would call Buck his husband. When he was talking to the cashier when Buck went to go grab something, when he was calming down random patients on calls, to the random stranger they met in the park. And over and over again, the gentle hum of satisfaction and blissful happiness settled in Buck. They never acknowledge it. Buck wasn’t sure if they were supposed to. Eddie never said it to his face, only when he was right out of earshot.
And every single time, Buck’s reminded of that small, velvet box sitting in between the amchur and guajillo powders.
A month into their relationship, a week of hearing Eddie say husband so easily, they go out. Maddie and Chimney were celebrating their first night baby-free. They wanted to try out the new bar/restaurant that opened up downtown, so there they went. They all, Hen, Karen, Eddie, and Buck, ended up pleasantly buzzed as Maddie and Chimney refused any drop of alcohol put in front of them. “We have a newborn, Buckley,” Chimney said, throwing him the single most offended look.
Eddie snatched up the shot. “More for us then.” He threw it back, and Buck watched as his throat bobbed. A little spilled out the side and traced its way down Eddie’s unblemished throat. Buck wanted to lick it.
Maybe he was drunker than he thought because he did just that. He pulled Eddie in by his waist and licked up the little drop of tequila before latching on to his skin. He ignored the booing from his friends as he focused on marking Eddie, just to make sure no one in the club had the wrong idea. He wanted to make everyone know that this beauty of a man was his and his alone.
Eddie’s fingers tangled themselves in his curls and tugged him up. He placed a sweet kiss on his lips, a contrast to the dirty way Buck clung to his neck. He dropped another to his birthmark before pulling away. “Come dance?” Before Buck could nod, Eddie turned and headed under the lights. Buck’s eyes immediately wandered down his backside. It was a really nice backside. One Buck got to see fully—
Maddie knocked his head. “Don’t be weird on my only night off.”
“I’m just going to,” Buck pointed out to the floor. “Yeah.”
“—waiting for my husband.”
Buck only smiled this time, the little possessive monster in him purring at Eddie’s words.
He slipped his hand into the back pocket of Eddie’s sinfully tight jeans. The other man raised a hand in surrender, accepting his loss with a faux smile.
Eddie spun around in his hold and wrapped an arm around Buck’s neck. He looked angelic under the lights. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it. He wasn’t going to wait another year, but he did have a plan. He was first going to get permission from Chris. He was the most important thing in their lives, and Buck didn’t want to exclude him. Then he’d drive them out onto the beach. Eddie loved the beach. Buck would get down on one knee while Eddie faced the waves, a Marry Me sign posted into the sand behind him.
Buck would make it the most romantic moment of their lives because dammit if Eddie didn’t deserve it.
“You’re really pretty,” Buck whispered against his lips. He grinned at the pink blush creeping on Eddie’s cheeks.
Eddie tugged at the curls at the back of his neck. In response, Buck pulled him closer, closer until every inch of their bodies was pressed together.
They would play Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling In Love at their wedding. It was a cliché wedding song, but Buck wanted it. Or they could wrangle the DJ into letting them sing What I Like About You. Maybe he could convince Eddie to have his entrance song be What A Man. Maybe with enough pleading.
“Where’s your head?” Eddie asked, trailing his hand to cup Buck’s cheek. It was too soft for the dirty grind of bodies around them. Buck relished it.
“You. Us. Our future.” The alcohol loosened his lips.
“You are my future,” Eddie mumbled into the space between them. “What else is there to think about?”
“You don’t hear it?”
Eddie hummed against his neck. He tightened his hold and pressed them impossibly closer, like he was afraid to let go, like Buck was going to get lost in the sea of bodies. If he did, Buck would fight through each one just to get back to the man that called him his husband.
“Hear what?”
Buck dropped the subject. Eddie was too drunk to remember this conversation, but it sat in the back of Buck’s mind like the velvet box in the back of the cabinet.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
Buck should be given an award for how long he endured it.
My husband, my husband, my husband.
It all came to a head where it started, in Eddie’s kitchen, under the soft glow of the refrigerator light.
The previous shift took it out of them. Buck was still “recovering” from his burns, bumps, and bruises, so he was on light duty, much to his chagrin. Still, he wasn’t up to cooking, so ordering out it was.
“Yeah, and the egg rolls. Yes, my husband loves them.”
Buck smiled. He could get used to this. He wanted to get used to this. He wanted to make Eddie’s words a reality.
“You keep calling me your husband,” Buck said as Eddie hung up.
“Oh? I didn’t even notice.” Buck noted the small hint of panic in Eddie’s voice. He shut the fridge door with his hip, beers forgotten, before slipping his hand into Eddie’s hair. Eddie leaned into it.
“I notice.” Eddie looked up at him with his big, brown, cow eyes. Buck dropped a kiss on the mole under his eyes, his favorite spot. “I like it.”
The tensions seeped out of Eddie like air leaving a balloon. He sagged against his chair. “I kept referring to you as my husband in my head. It slipped out once, and now I can’t stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” Buck said. “In fact—” He pulled his hand out of Eddie’s hair as he moved to that cabinet. This entire thing had been a test of his self-control, and Buck was honestly surprised he lasted this long. He wanted this. Eddie wanted this. What was stopping them from having this? They were already everything to each other. What was one more title?
Eddie sharply inhaled when Buck turned around with the box in hand. “Buck?”
“I bought it right after our first date.” He sank to one knee in front of Eddie and held up the box. Eddie reached out in disbelief, fingers circling his wrist. “Eddie Diaz. You are the love of my life. I can’t imagine a world without you. I don’t want a world without you. You gave me a family, everything I could have ever wished for. Eddie, you are my everything. Hearing you call me your husband has been the highlight of my day, every day, and I want to make that a reality. I want to call you my husband and have it be true. So please, will you make the happiest man on Earth and marry me? Be my husband for real?”
Eddie stared silently at the ring. It was a simple band, nothing too gaudy, something Eddie could wear on a daily basis. At least, until Buck replaced it with a wedding band.
Buck could take this silence as a rejection, but he didn’t because this is Eddie. And he knew him well enough to stay on one knee.
“Shit,” Eddie breathes out.
Buck laughed. “Not the reaction I was hoping for.”
“No, shut up, fuck no. Not no—God, I’m messing up your proposal.” Buck shifted slightly, wincing at the discomfort in his knee. Eddie clocked it immediately. “Wait, no, get up. You’re hurting your knee.”
“Then give me an answer.”
“Yes, of course, yes. I’ll be your husband. Now get up.”
Eddie pulled him up and into a hug. Buck buried his head into Eddie’s neck and inhaled. He said yes.
Buck fumbled to put on the ring with how much he was shaking. He knew what he would say, but nothing prepared him for the actual words. No one actually said yes and meant it. But Eddie, he meant it. Buck knew he meant it. The gentle hum thrummed under his skin as he pulled Eddie into him and crushed their mouths together. “You’re my fiancé,” he mumbled into his lips.
When he pulled back, Eddie had the goofiest grin on his face. “You’re my fiancé .”
Buck let out a disbelieving laugh. “We’re getting married.”
Eddie echoed the sentiment. “You’re going to be my husband.”
Buck was going to be his husband.