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Evan Buckley is in love with Eddie Diaz, a fact. It’s not something he says aloud, but it’s ever present. It was there when he first laid eyes on him; when he lost Christopher, and just knew that Eddie would never forgive him. But as he stares at the back of a license plate, one he knows all too well, he knows that the one thing that he has been yearning for since he met Eddie would never happen.
Because Eddie was gone.
He was going home; Buck tried to be happy for him, and some part of him was. He gets to be with Christopher, and Buck loves that—the thought of his two favourite people together again. Eddie deserves happiness, and if he has to leave to find it, then Buck should be happy for him, right?
So as he stares at the back of a too-small U-Haul - that shouldn’t give him hope - Buck tries. He waves him off, hugs him goodbye, breathes him in one last time, and then Eddie is gone.
He stands there for too long, he wonders if time stops. And then thinks that's stupid; stop being so melodramatic. The world doesn’t revolve around you. Buck should be happy for him, for Christ's sake.
Clarity falls from the sky, he blinks himself back into time. He looks up as black meets blue and shakes his head. He’s so glad he wasn’t on shift today. Nothing good ever happens in the rain, especially in L.A.
He makes his way back to the sidewalk, each step dragging him further away from Eddie; his legs begin to feel like steel. They grate against the concrete, screaming.
He walks through the door into Eddi- his house, closing it upon entry. He wonders now if taking over Eddie’s lease was a good idea. Flashes of time spent laughing, talking; snuggling on Eddie’s lumpy fucking couch, they all come back to him. Why did he think this would be a good idea?
He needs to find something to do, something preferably far away from here. So Buck walks away.
It is very in character for him. Walking away. But he can not stay in that house for another second. His organs outline one another, and a rot spreads through his blood, to his lungs, his heart. It reaches through his throat and pulls all the air from him. Cracks grow on his porcelain neck. He will shatter.
It’s funny, he thinks. Eddie has left, just like Abby. Buck thought for so long; Eddie could never be like Abby, he would never leave him. But everybody leaves. Maddie left. Twice. His parents, though he guesses they were never really there to begin with. Abby. Now Eddie.
He needs to find a bar, get blackout drunk and fuck his problems away. But Buck doesn’t do that anymore. So he settles on just the first two.
He drives until he finds a bar that’s open at four in the afternoon. A crappy sort-of place with white walls, shitty food and purple glowing lights. The kind of place that a stockbroker brings a date to. He imagines it gets pretty busy in the evenings, but not now. The bar is empty apart from a few stragglers sitting alone, a bartender watches the clock.
Buck orders a whiskey, and then another, and another, until he can’t tell whether the bartender has four eyes or six. He loses track of time, one minute he sits alone, and the next, a slender hand rests on his wrist.
A woman with a superficial grin gazes hungrily down at him, her teeth sharp like daggers. Buck just wants to be left alone. She talks and talks and talks, Buck doesn’t know where she keeps the breath.
“So… what about you?” Buck couldn’t care less.
“What about me?” Drunkenness heavy on his tongue.
“What do you do? Silly.”
She slaps him playfully while she says it. Buck could be sick. There is nothing less that Buck wants to do than entertain this ghastly woman in conversation, but every time he forgets, he finds himself reaching for his phone, about to text Eddie. But then he remembers. Eddie left him.
He looks her up and down, She’s pretty; more Eddie’s type, with long brown hair and a short, slim figure. Buck entertains a thought. His previous plan being thrown out the metaphorical window.
Subconsciously, Buck knows that this will not help him get over Eddie; he might return to Buck 1.0, and that’s no good for anybody. But he’s too drunk to care; any semblance of reason is lost behind a haze.
—
He regrets it.
As he wakes, he blinks at an unfamiliar ceiling and immediately closes his eyes. God, how much did he have last night? Warmth radiates from the woman beside him, and a slim arm rests across his chest.
He’s sticky and aching and he’s so fucking stupid. Frank is going to be so disappointed, Buck thought that this part of him had died at Abby, but no. He would always be the Buck that slept around in heartbreak, and drank and didn’t give a flying fuck about anyone else. Useless, pathetic, exhausting, Buck.
His throat is dry, unsurprisingly, and his heart is crammed in his cranium; it still knows how to pound. He looks around for a glass of water, carefully sliding the woman’s- what was her name?- arm off of his chest.
After looking around and deciding that no, Buck did not think to grab a glass of water before his activities last night, he padded away from the bed, trying to find the kitchen.
Buck feels better after a glass of water; his head pounds less, but he still feels disgusting. Like a 16-wheeler plowed into his brain while he slept. A groan comes from the bedroom, and Buck needs to leave.
The one thing that he definitely doesn’t miss from his time of constant one-night stands is the awkward mornings. The way you both stare at each other, wondering if you should leave or- if it was your place- kick the other person out. How you stare at the other person’s face while trying to think of their name. Claire? Or was it Kate? Candice? No.
So he slips back into the bedroom, gets dressed, grabs his stuff and leaves. And only then does Buck realise that shit- his shift starts in thirty minutes.
Right as he arrives at the firehouse, his phone vibrates. A text. Buck opens his messages only to be met with three notifications from Eddie and four missed calls.
What the fuck?
After spending the morning groveling in regret, Buck had almost forgotten about Eddie. The beating in his head worsens. His rotten heart splits open, and his stomach falls as he reads his text messages.
[1:34AM] Buck : Fuck y ou maan
[1:34AM] Buck : fuck u fr laevng me fucker
[1:36AM] Buck : I nevr loved u
[1:37AM] Buck : thts a lie
[1:56AM] Buck : I already miss u
[1:59AM] Buck : i love u come bck
Oh shit. Never once in Buck’s life has he wanted to end it all more than this moment now. He stares at the words- his words- they creep under his skin, piercing every orifice, he knows that this moment, now, will define him for the rest of his life.
This is the most mortified he has ever been.
He needs to go to work, only a couple of steps towards the entrance, but he can’t bring himself to move; he knows that if he does, they’ll know. Chimney, Bobby, Hen. They’ll all know how stupid he is, they could probably read it on his face. Falling in love with his straight best friend.
He looks past his own messages and reads Eddie’s.
Missed call at [7:42AM]
[7:44AM] Eddie : Buck pick up the phone
Missed call at [7:45AM]
[7:49AM] Eddie : Ffs Buck answer your goddamn phone
[7:51AM] Eddie : You can’t just say something like that, Buck
Missed call at [7:58AM]
Missed call at [8:13AM]
Dread fills his gut. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t like it, he was straight and decidedly not in love with Buck. What was he thinking? He can’t help but hate himself.
Buck walks into the firehouse, easier than he had expected. He was alone in the locker room, and as he got changed, he mentally prepared himself for his first shift without his partner. Ravi was going to take over, he loved Ravi, really. But he wasn’t Eddie. To do this job without Eddie, Eddie with whom he has been with for the last 7 or so years, doesn’t feel right.
He exited the locker room, the thought of his drunken mistake still playing on his mind. As he heads up the steps to the kitchen, Chimney, showing his phone to Hen, looks up to greet him but Buck must look like absolute dog crap because his face dropped.
“Hey, man. Are you alright? You- I’m gonna be frank Buck, you look like shit.” Chimney’s eyes travel around his face, worry present on his own.
“Did something happen with Eddie?” He hates how that's what he thinks first. It’s always about Eddie. Buck isn’t gonna deny it though, it always is.
“I’m fine, Chim, nothing happened.” He’s never been good at lying.
“Really,” he emphasises.
Buck hopes they won’t ask; he knows himself, he’ll spill. And surprisingly, they don’t, Chimney shrugs and shares a glance with Hen, turning back to his phone.
And then, thank you, Jesus, the bell rings. Buck breathes a sigh of relief, as he runs to the truck, he can be distracted; his phone is on silent. People just need to not ask questions, Buck can’t lie for shit.
They’re called to a scene; an elderly woman trapped beneath a fallen light fixture in a supermarket, how she’s not dead, Buck doesn’t know. As Chim and Hen work on her, Buck figures a method of extracting her in his head, Ravi close by.
Working with Ravi goes alright, he knows what he’s doing. He’s been at the 118 for four years, of course he knows how to do his job; it’s just that Buck doesn’t know him all that well. They are friendly. Buck has played many a prank on him, but Ravi’s personal life is a mystery, so Buck tries to get to know him. He asks him questions as they work. To be honest, Buck is just trying to distract himself from the open wound in his chest.
His questions and conversations with Ravi all come to an end when, whilst waiting on Bobby to cook lunch, Ravi turns to talk back to him.
“Look, Buck, I’m really not interested in being a rebound.” And, what the fuck. Buck wasn’t trying to get into Ravi’s pants. And what does he mean by rebound? Tommy broke up with him months ago.
“Woah, Ravi, wait I- it’s not like that” He grabs Ravi’s shoulder as he tries to walk away. Buck hopes he doesn’t come off as desperate.
“Really? Because you won’t leave me alone.” Ravi’s face is cold, Buck can’t believe he missed that; he must have been really bothering him. Buck’s arm now limp by his side, fiddles with the tag on his shirt.
“It’s true, Ravi, I’m not looking for anything right now, I- uh- I just want to get to know you more, as a friend.” Buck pleads sincerely, he wonders where Ravi could have possibly gotten any other idea from.
“Tommy broke up with me months ago anyway. I have nothing to rebound off of.” He adds as a backhand whilst his hand strokes the back of his neck.
“Wait- Tommy?”
“Yeah?” Buck stands awkwardly. Ravi knows Tommy? “My ex? We broke up ages ago. Do you know him?”
“You weren’t dating Eddie?” And doesn’t that just hurt, the possibility that from an outside perspective, Eddie and he look like a couple. But they aren’t, they never were, and they never will be because Eddie didn’t want him like that; no matter how much Buck did.
“It’s just you seemed so close, like, all the time and today, any time you weren’t talking to me or Chimney or Hen, you got that look on your face”
“What look?”
“Like you’ve just been dumped and he moved 800 miles away”, Ravi says deadpan, like it’s obvious, like all this time it’s been right under everybody’s noses and their idiots for not figuring it out.
“And you’re still in love with him.”
“I’m not in love with Eddie,” Buck says with an awkward, strained laugh. Ravi looks unconvinced.
“Really? Because he’s in love with you,”
Buck’s stomach drops, his cracked heart beats faster at the thought. The rot in his veins slows. He tries to shut down the false hope that starts to bloom inside the hollow caves in his chest, but a thought like that can’t be slowed by willpower alone.
A call from Hen lets them know that Bobby has finished cooking, and the food is on the table. Ravi starts to walk up the stairs towards the kitchen, Buck following in tandem.
“Wait- Ravi- What do you mean?”
“Buck,” Ravi says exasperated, pausing on the stairs; turning to face Buck, clearly ready to be done with the conversation, but Buck isn’t leaving until he gets an answer.
“I think you really need to talk to Eddie.”
And then he’s gone, sitting down at the table- where Eddie usually sits- joining in conversation like he hadn’t just torn Buck’s whole perception of his and Eddie’s relationship to shrapnel. Could Eddie like him back? Could he have had this entire time, and Buck was just too blind to see it? Was Buck an idiot for letting him go?
But Eddie was straight. Buck had had no reason to believe otherwise all these years, so why is it suddenly a possibility that he isn’t? Between Ana and Marisol, and Kim, Buck was sure he knew where Eddie stood on the matter of his sexuality.
Even if Eddie wasn’t as straight as Buck had thought, that didn’t mean that Eddie thought about Buck in that way. Because, in Eddie’s words, Buck was exhausting; Eddie had left anyway, so he obviously didn’t want anything to do with him.
As Buck sits down at the table, he has the urge to check his phone, to see if Eddie has texted him again. The conversation around him turns to static as he reads his texts.
[9:23AM] Eddie : Buck you cant ignore me forever
[9:24AM] Eddie : I know uve seen these messages
[12:13AM] Eddie : We need to talk
The most recent message being only twenty minutes ago, Buck debates texting back. He doesn’t want to leave Eddie on read; he doesn’t want it to seem like Buck is avoiding him. Even though he is. But Buck can’t stand the thought of responding; trying to explain himself so he turns his phone off and turns back to the conversation in front of him.
The shift continues as normal, a car crash, a couple of heart attacks and one man hanging out of his bathroom window, by his foot. All in all, it was pretty standard. Eddie also didn’t text him again, leaving a rotten feeling in his gut. Yet, when his shift ends and he has to go home, Buck doesn’t feel as awful as when his shift started.
His headache is gone, though he still feels groggy and dirty, but now he can finally go to sleep. He thinks wistfully of his mattress- a good night's sleep would cure all of his problems.
He arrives at his house- he still thinks of it as Eddie’s place, he’ll have to get used to that. Within the seconds between stepping indoors and turning the light on, Buck decides that he can not spend the night here.
For one, there is no furniture, Buck’s not even sure where his mattress is, and second, there are too many memories; it all feels wrong. To live and sleep and eat and have sex with people- Buck would never bring a date here, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t been on a date in months, it’s the thought that counts- in this house, without Eddie, would feel blasphemous. Why did he take over Eddie’s lease again?
—
Buck knocks on Maddie’s door softly, it was way past Jee’s bedtime. A key rattles quietly in the lock, and the door opens to a disheveled Maddie. She is in her pyjamas, ones he knows match with Jee’s- Chim probably had a pair too, but was too much of a coward to show Buck. Her brows are creased in worry and annoyance, It was pretty late.
Once her gaze lands on Buck, her face softens, the pensive lines across her visage fade, and the crease in her brow all but disappears. Her face then morphs into sisterly worry as she wonders what he is doing on her doorstep.
“Evan?” She grabs hold of his arm, drags him through the door and into the house. She closes the door, turning around to face him; her arms wrapped around one another, trying to keep herself warm against the crisp night air.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Can I crash here tonight?” Desperation heavy on his tongue, and it must be quite clear because Maddie nods her head immediately; she walks away to grab some pillows and blankets for Buck. It wasn’t his first time crashing on the couch; there were many times when Jee had just been born, and he had slept at Maddie’s in case he was needed. He liked to feel useful.
He was already settled, lying on the couch, when Maddie returned with the pillows and blankets. She sits down next to him, her hand resting on his shin.
“What’s wrong?” She stares into his soul, her eyes piercing him like an owl. Buck hates how well she can read him, he supposes it makes sense - she did raise him.
Buck looks away, sighs, and lifts his neck to stare at the ceiling. He’s so fucking tired.
“You can’t keep running away, Buck” The exasperation and disappointment in her voice stabs Buck right in the gut.
“It’s your home now, you’re going to have to sleep there eventually,” She sighs.
“Look, I’m not gonna rush you, take all the time you need, you know that there is always a place here for you. Just- you’ve got to talk to me if you need help, I’ve been there. I can help.” She begins to rise from the couch, she turns back to him
“Goodnight, Evan.”
She starts to walk away, leaving Buck on the lying couch; however, Buck reaches for her hand as she turns. Maddie jumps when she halts and turns back towards him.
“Wait- Maddie- um,” She looks at him expectantly. “I- uh- I did something stupid, I-uh told him I’m in love with him. And I really didn’t mean to, it was an accident.” Buck’s hands come up to his face, and he groans into them.
“Who? Eddie?” Buck fixes her with an exhausted look. He hates how she guessed that, and just when he thinks that Maddie is about to grill him about his secret, she laughs. Buck gawkes. How does Maddie find this funny?
“How was that an accident?”
“I was drunk!” He relays,
“Maddie, it’s not funny,” he groans - he feels like a child - whilst slapping her arm; she just laughs more. Maddie holds her palm up to Buck, as if she’s telling him she will stop, but she doesn’t; she breaks into even more hysterical snorts.
“Come on Maddie, help me, i’ve fucked up.”
Maddie starts to calm down, though an amused smile still dances on her lips.
“You didn’t fuck up.” She slaps his leg. “I’m surprised you finally got the balls to tell him,” she chuckles, a proud expression suddenly showing in her eyes.
“Tell him what? That I’m in love with him?”
“Yes! Finally! I’m sick of all the pining, and I just knew that you would be over here this week, groveling.” She exclaims, excitement evident on her face.
“Honestly, Evan, I was ready to drive you to El Paso myself, just so you could tell him how disastrously in love with him you are.”
“You knew!” He gapes at her, has she known this entire time? And she never told him? Buck hasn’t even known himself for that long, though, from a retrospective viewpoint, he knows it was obvious, how even he didn’t figure it out himself was beyond him.
“Of course!” She exclaims, though she looks taken aback when Buck turns away sheepishly.
“Oh, come on, Buck. You aren’t exactly on terminator level of emotion suppression, it was obvious!”
“What am I gonna do?” He groans into his hands as he slides further into the couch, further away from the mess that is his life.
“Here’s a revolutionary idea, call him.”
“I can't do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because then I’ll have to talk to him.”
Buck would have to explain himself, how he’s been in love with Eddie for years, and that he only recently figured it out. And if that weren’t enough, he would most likely be met with disgust and rejection, as Eddie is undoubtedly not in love with him in return. Not ideal.
Maddie fixes him with a patronising look and sighs heavily—done with his shit.
“Look, Buck, I’m going to bed.” She stands up. “I suggest you do the same,” she adds as she walks down the hall. Then, just as she is about to disappear, she turns to Buck, “Oh, and talk to Eddie.”
Then she’s gone, and Buck’s alone once more.
Buck stares at the ceiling, contemplating their conversion. All this time and Maddie had known? She seemed certain that Eddie would understand. That he wouldn’t be mad. But Buck wasn’t so sure, if Eddie came up to him, out of the blue, and confessed his love, Buck would be - well, Buck would be ecstatic - maybe that wasn’t the best analogy.
If it were Chimney or Ravi, though, Buck would feel flattered and uncomfortable, he would probably be rethinking their entire relationship. Then, in typical Buck fashion, Buck would avoid him. But Eddie hadn’t been avoiding him; Eddie had been texting him, calling him, trying to reach him. Buck had been the one avoiding Eddie.
Suddenly, Buck gets the urge to text Eddie; to explain himself, to mend the fences before they crumble completely. Buck reaches for his pocket, intending to take out his phone, but he finds it empty. It’s not in any of his other pockets either. Anxiety consumes his mind before he tells himself to calm down - he probably just left it in his locker or something.
Buck thinks back to the last time he had it, he was playing music in the car as he drove to Eddie’s house after his shift. So it couldn’t be at the firehouse, it must be at Eddie’s - his place, then. That was the only other place he went.
Buck leaves Maddie’s and hops into his car. Buck thinks of what he will say to Eddie as he drives, should he apologise? Or not? Confidence is key, right? He should show that he doesn’t regret what he said, but what if Eddie feels uncomfortable with that? He doesn’t want to lose his best friend. Maybe he should wait until tomorrow, it was pretty late.
Buck still hasn’t made up his mind by the time he steps out of the parked car, still stewing on what he should do, but he is snapped out of his stupor by two loud bangs, right by Eddie’s front door.
“Come on, Buck, open up, I know you’re in there. I can hear your ringtone,” A voice pleads. And Buck can’t believe his ears, it can’t be.
“Eddie?” The man spins around, startled. Buck stares into the eyes of his best friend. Eddie freezes like a deer in headlights, his eyes wild. Eddie opens his mouth, intending to speak, but nothing comes out; he looks terrified.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Christopher?”
“You- uh- you didn’t text me back,” Eddie states, like that's an answer, his back resting against the door.
“I- uh- I,” Buck can’t believe his brain is failing him this badly; he really didn’t know what to say. “Look, why don’t you come inside; sit down, I’ll grab us a drink, we can talk.”
Eddie seems pleased with that idea and nods, an awkward smile resting on his face. Buck unlocks the door and immediately spots his phone resting on the windowsill; he pockets it and goes to grab some beers from the kitchen.
Only when he returns to Eddie does Buck realise that there is no furniture for them to sit on, which means Buck won’t have to sit in forced proximity. He silently thanks himself for not unpacking yet.
He hands Eddie a beer, and Eddie gives him an awkward smile as thanks. Buck can’t stand it; things with Eddie have never been this awkward before. They’ve always managed to wade through their accumulative shit together. Eddie takes a sip of his beer, then sets it down. Buck does the same.
Eddie looks nervous.
“Look, Eddie,” Buck clears his throat, “I guess, all I wanted to say was I'm sorry. Sorry for not calling you back and for what I said.”
Eddie looks taken aback, concerned, like he doesn’t agree with what Buck was saying.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Buck.” He seems certain, like what he said was fact. Buck can't believe Eddie is insinuating that he did nothing wrong- Buck had broken Eddie’s trust. He can’t come back from that.
“No, you’re wrong. It was inconsiderate of me, and a complete accident by the way- I hadn’t even realised I had sent it until after you texted me.” His hands come up to his forehead, rubbing his temples.
“I just- I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, and I- I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable”
Buck looks up, and there’s something different in Eddie’s eyes, something primal.
“You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.”
“Oh.”
Buck’s eyes widen. Eddie takes another swig of his beer. And then, in two awfully long strides, Eddie’s on him. Buck’s breath hitches, and Eddie’s lips are on his.
It's stilted, awkward. Buck’s too shocked to kiss back, and then he isn’t. He melts into Eddie’s mouth; once Eddie notices him kissing back, he’s even fiercer.
There’s something desperate behind it.
Eddie’s hand wraps around Buck’s neck to draw him closer, and Buck is suddenly incredibly aware of what’s happening.
Holy shit! Eddie is kissing him! Him! Evan Buckley!
Buck deepens the kiss, and when Buck’s tongue glides over Eddie’s bottom lip, asking for entrance. Eddie doesn’t say no.
Buck’s knees feel like putty; all of his dreams have been presented to him on a silver platter.
Buck moves his hands to rest on Eddie’s waist and drags his fingers across the small of Eddie’s back, feeling it shiver under his touch.
Abruptly, Buck’s back is against a wall. Sending a jolt through both of them, and it ends as fast as it began.
Eddie backs off quickly. He turns around a hand rubbing up and down his face. Buck watches as he sits down against the wall opposite, sliding. Buck watches the devastating expression on Eddie’s face intently.
From the floor, Eddie’s eyes glance up to meet his.
“I’m sorry,” He says, sincerity lacing every syllable.
“What?” Buck croaks, his throat tight.
“I shouldn’t have done that, it was stupid of me.” The silence that follows is deafening.
Buck decides to sit down next to him, he treads over carefully and sits opposite Eddie. Eddie stares up at the ceiling, the beer previously forgotten now rests by his side.
Buck rubs his hands over Eddie’s shoulders softly, but he surprises Eddie, and Eddie looks down at Buck.
Buck’s heart shatters; the look on Eddie’s face is devastating. Eddie’s eyes reflect the light - a little too much - and gaze down at him pleadingly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Buck whispers, mimicking Eddie’s earlier words.
“And look- me texting you may have been an accident, but I- that doesn’t mean that I didn’t mean what I said.”
Eddie’s breath hitches. His gaze softens.
“I love you, too.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Buck hears it clear as day
Buck leans back into Eddie, catching his lips. The heat that had previously had Buck shaking on his feet, now lost in a much tender kiss. Buck’s hands reach up to cup Eddie’s face, his stubble coarse against Buck’s calloused palms.
When they break, Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s. He’s smiling now, and Buck is elated.
“It’s OK, everything will be fine. We’ll be OK,” Buck whispers to Eddie. Eddie nods slightly; they both lean back against the wall, next to each other.
They sit there for a while, the rot in Buck’s blood dies, leaving only relief.
“How’s Christopher?” Buck asks.
Eddie only laughs.