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Eddie is still scared shitless of losing Buck after the earthquake even when it’s hours after the rescue and they are on their way home, so he doesn’t speak, drives in silence and just occasionally looks at Buck in the passenger seat to make sure that he’s still there. He can breathe a little bit easier every time that he sees that Buck is still there (of course) even though Buck’s face is still partially covered in dust and grime and some specks of blood from some minor cuts.
Eddie is also scared shitless of losing Buck as soon as he opens his mouth because so far he has only sputtered orders (which he was in no place to give, honestly) and blabbered about having to save Buck and Ravi as soon as possible (because, Bobby, time is running out they might not do it if we don’t move now— please cap, come on, let me in, let me go there!!!), but all he can think now, now that Buck is safe and relatively unscathed, is I love him I love him oh fucking god I love him so much. And now it feels like he doesn’t know how to exist around Buck without blurting it out, now that he knows and he has, once again, tasted a Buck-less reality, the possibility of having to live a Buck-less life.
He found out, on a day like any other, that gut-wrenching fear is a very effective incentive for a sexuality crisis, and also that relief makes everything a whole lot clearer, and easier.
He should have known, after all. Loving Buck has always been second nature to him.
Eventually, he barely stops himself from opening his truck’s door for Buck and escorting him into the house holding his waist, because overall Buck is fine. He ends up helping Buck sit on the edge of the bathtub, though, and then silently begins cleaning the man’s face, with such surgical precision that Buck would laugh if only Eddie's eyes weren't shining, so full of tears, so scared, for him.
Eddie is carefully, so meticulously scanning every single little cut on his face and Buck feels his stomach twist on itself because Eddie is oozing love, out of every pore, every move, every gentle touch of his fingers, every muttered sorry after Buck feels the sting of the antiseptic solution on his reddening skin. But that terrifies Buck. It makes him feel like he’s standing on the edge of a precipice, the tallest cliff ever known to man and he can do nothing, not even try to go back to safety, because even one simple, small movement will knock him over and kill him.
So he settles on worry. Yeah. Eddie is worried. Eddie is acting out of sheer fear and worry about his well-being.
That’s safer than believing that Eddie might really love him, feel things for him. Him, Buck. Simple, stupid Buck who makes everything about himself.
"You’re pissed,” anyway he can’t refrain from saying. That’s the only conclusion Buck manages to draw in the face of his best friend’s absolute deafening silence. And if he weren't so close to Eddie, if Eddie weren't closely inspecting his face as though his own life depended on that, Buck wouldn't notice, but Eddie flinches for a split second before regaining his composure.
"I’m not," he immediately murmurs.
"Then what?"
"Then nothing, Buck," Eddie shrugs, about to turn around to rummage into the first aid kit to get some steri-strips. “You should have gone to the hospital," he stubbornly informs Buck. This is far from the first time he says that.
"I’m okay, Eddie," Buck retorts and before his friend can turn his back to him again, he catches Eddie's wrist to stop his movements. Honestly, it’s a borderline painful grip, but he doesn't let go, and Eddie doesn't budge either.
Buck looks for Eddie's eyes, wants to decipher what the hell is going on in his mind. "What's going on?" he decides to ask, resolved to get his best friend to open up.
"I don't know what you want me to say–”
Buck seems to think about it for a beat or two, scrunches his face before flinching at the way the steri-strips pull on his cuts. "You said I didn't ask," he gulps once, then goes on, "so now I’m asking, Eddie."
He pointedly holds Eddie's gaze. "What's going on?"
Eddie doesn’t answer. Instead, he sighs. “Would you let me do my job?” Then annoyedly murmurs, crossing his arms for major dramatic effect and snatching his wrist away from Buck’s grip in the process.
So Buck decides to stand up, and that brings them impossibly close. So close that he can see the specks of caramel in Eddie’s irises. So close that he can see the way Eddie’s breath hitches when he minutely flinches.
Stupid, useless ribs.
Eddie squints, trying to tamp his panic down. “You’re hurt. You’re hurt and you–” he indignantly splutters, pointing his index finger at Buck’s face.
Buck rolls his eyes and briefly wonders what’s up with Eddie and this stupid finger. It’s so ridiculous that it might be adorable. Or he’s just too far gone for Eddie. That’s a possibility too, yeah.
“I just stumbled across some rubbles to push Ravi down,” he decides to admit, not expecting Eddie to scoff in his face.
“Of course, obviously!” Eddie opens his arms too, and Buck knows that he’s about to start a full-blown Greek tragedy of a performance.
“Eddie–”
“No!” Eddie shouts, internally grateful that Chris is spending the night at Pepa’s.
“You– you don’t stop putting,” Eddie’s finger lands on Buck’s shoulder this time, making him wince, “your fucking life in danger.”
Buck recoils at that. That’s the first time they’ve had this conversation after the will conversation in the hospital all these years ago.
“Eddie, no, today I really–” he tries to interject but Eddie shakes his head and Buck is horrified by the sight of his friend’s face scrunching up, ready to give in to a river of unrelenting tears.
Buck desperately wants to defend himself, because this time it really wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job, no heroics, no diving head first into useless danger. And then he saw a piece of concrete was about to hit Ravi, what was he supposed to do if not launching on the guy to tackle him into the ground away from a possibly mortal hit?
“Why are you crying?” He breathes out in a hushed whisper. “Eddie–”
Eddie only shakes his head so Buck opts for placing a placating hand on his side, precisely on the ribs that shield his heart. If he could, that would be his job. To protect Eddie’s heart with his bare hands. A thumb silently rubs up and down in a soothing motion and that seems to get Eddie to open up. Or rather, to worm his way into Buck’s arms.
Buck is taken aback at this sudden turn of events. The way Eddie’s shoulders are shaking with violent sobs is slowly breaking his heart, the way Eddie’s tears make no noise is tearing him apart even more.
“He– hey, it’s okay, you can cry, just–”
He doesn’t know what to do, this has never happened before in all the years they’ve known each other, despite them being each other’s person. Eddie has never openly sobbed in his arms, even when Chris left with his parents and Eddie was torn apart by the grief.
He doesn’t know what to do so he just holds him and encircles his waist with both arms before moving one hand to rub his back, putting his chin on Eddie’s head.
Sometime later, eyes religiously closed, he’s startled by a muffled sound followed by his friend sniffling against his shirt. He’s pretty sure Eddie has just covered his shoulder in snot, but he doesn’t care. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that?” He is forced to say because he honestly couldn’t decipher the other man’s words.
“I’m so tired,” Eddie whines, still hidden in the crook of Buck’s neck.
“We can go to sleep,” Buck uselessly suggests.
Eddie shakes his head and he feels it against his clavicle. “I’m scared.”
That makes Buck freeze. What is Eddie scared of?
He’s frowning so much while gently peeling Eddie off of his chest to look at him. “Eddie, what’s wrong?”
“I– I– I can’t tell you, Buck, this is– this is–” another hiccup interrupts Eddie, and that gives Buck more time to worry. “Fucked up.”
“I am fucked up.”
“You are not fucked up, don’t even think about it,” Buck immediately retorts, glaring at his best friend as if he were the one offended by those words.
Eddie’s heart soars against his own volition. But he is still shaking his head, still feeling so desperately, deeply guilty.
“I am! I– I’m broken, Buck,” he cries out, and Buck truly wonders what the fuck is going on. How did they get from Eddie yelling at him to be careful to… whatever this is?
“Eddie, listen, whatever you are thinking, that’s– you– you are not… broken,” Buck grimaces at that word. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
They are still standing in front of one another, too close to be a totally platonic situation. Buck’s pretty sure he has never been this close to a person he wasn’t in a relationship with, unless you consider life or death situations on the job, with the victims they have to help.
Buck doesn’t care though, he is in love with Eddie. The closer the better. Even if Eddie will never feel—
“I think I’m gay!” Eddie blurts out, exasperated and outright exhausted.
Well, that’s definitely more jarring than the whole-ass earthquake Buck has survived today. A whole lot worse. He doesn’t think he has ever been shaking as much, today. Not as much as he is now, with Eddie in his hands, in his arms, confessing something that has probably been torturing him for ages, at this point.
“Yeah! Exactly!” Eddie exclaims, stepping away from Buck and waving his hands around without any purpose, really.
“W– what? No!” Buck immediately bounces back, approaching Eddie as though he were some sort of scared animal. He carefully gets his hands back on him, one settled on his bicep and the other one gently, subtly caressing his hip. “Eddie, it’s okay, it’s fine, e– even if you are only realizing that now.”
Buck is so softly trying to coax Eddie, but still can’t wrap his head around the timing of this confession. He supposes that it wasn’t planned at all. But then why—
“I love you, for fuck’s sake!” Then Eddie nearly shouts, taking another step back, then maniacally begins to flail his arms around, sputtering nonsense, a panicked expression on his face. “It’s you! Oh my God, it’s–”
He’s shaking from head to toe. “It’s you, all the fucking time.” He takes a deep breath and Buck wonders why. Then immediately gets it. Eddie starts a long-ass rant.
“Maybe I like men but you know what? I don’t even care!” He looks honestly delirious and Buck is so worried that he hasn’t yet caught up with what this all implies: he has a chance.
“I don’t care about other men! And–” he aggressively rubs his face. His cheeks are red and his skin looks raw and painful at this point. So much so that Buck aches to gently peel his hands off. He stays put though.
“And, oh my God!” Again? Buck thinks. Well, he supposes that a traumatic experience isn’t the best way to come out. He internally shrugs.
“Oh my God!” Here we go again. “I’m so tired of–” Eddie defeatedly huffs. “I’m not even making sense.”
“I’m fucking terrified of– of this feeling,” he starts listing things on his fingers, counting them as he blurts them out. It would be funny if only pain weren’t so visible on his face. “And then, then there you are! Looking for a fucking one-way ticket to– to–” he doesn’t have words, but then he squints at Buck and looks like he has found them again.
“You have a death wish or something?” He asks, dead serious and Buck can’t take that. He explodes in a loud laugh which makes Eddie frown, indignant and offended.
“Eddie–”
“Fuck you,” Eddie tells him, as calmly as if he were reporting the weather. “Then,” he gets back to his rant, to his list. “Then you are trapped under I don’t know how many stories and I’m still fucking scared but then I think I gotta save this stupid asshole.”
“That’s flattering,” Buck ironically mumbles under his breath, arching a brow while Eddie relentlessly goes on.
“And I can’t leave again, I can’t leave him! And if– if I was okay with taking this to my fucking grave, now, now I–”
He truly looks like he’s not breathing anymore, so Buck acts without really thinking. He pushes forward and kisses him, tilts his head with a soft hand, getting just the perfect angle to shut Eddie up and skillfully crafting the best kiss of his life at the same time, captures Eddie’s bottom lip between both of his own, kisses, sucks, licks, and kisses kisses kisses and Eddie turns into mush in his hands, in his arms, finally deflating.
Buck can feel Eddie’s fear evaporate from his body, by the way he relaxes into the kiss, the joy reverberate through his chest when they push into each other to get more more more.
His thumping heart is so loud and yet everything has never been quieter. Everything has never been clearer. He has never felt so safe, so at peace. He feels like he has finally found it. Everything he’s been looking for. His family. His person.
His thumbs are pressed firmly into Eddie’s head, one under an ear, the other one drawing circles on his cheek. When he pulls away, just to catch a breath, he dares open his eyes and finds Eddie’s still closed.
“Eds,” he whispers, voice hoarse and trembling.
He can’t afford to ruin things. Not with the most important person in his life.
“Baby,” he tentatively risks. “Eddie,” he chuckles because it’s clear that Eddie is just scared, or he would have backed off already, releasing the iron grip that he has on his hips.
“Open those eyes, come on,” Buck pleads, moving his thumb to touch the skin around Eddie’s left eye, and all of the oxygen is sucked out of his lungs the moment Eddie complies. The second he meets that deep brown, borderline black, of Eddie’s eyes, he knows he’ll be never able to look away.
“Buck,” Eddie heavily pants, not because of the kiss but because of how worried he is. How scared he is. Of this new, impossibly sweet feeling.
“We are okay,” so Buck tells him. “And I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to kiss you or–”
Honestly, he doesn’t think Eddie didn’t agree with his actions, judging by the way he immediately got with the program, but he has to check anyway.
“I want,” Eddie is quick to clarify, serious even through his panic, making him laugh a little.
“Okay.” Buck’s impossibly fond voice makes him melt.
“Oh my God,” Eddie eventually giggles. Buck is still counting, they’re on oh my God number four. He loves this man. Gosh. He can’t help but join him cackling. “This is the worst way to–”
“Come out? Nah, I’ve done worse–”
“Confess my love, I was saying,” Eddie cuts him off, looking at him expectantly.
That about knocks Buck out, fully unconscious on their bathroom floor. “You love me,” he says. It’s not a question, it sounds like he’s trying to find a way to believe that, to find a nuance that may confirm that it’s all a trick of his imagination, but Eddie nods.
“I think I already told you, Buckley,” Eddie looks smug for the first time in ages and Buck can’t believe that this is not a dream.
Buck snorts, something so happy and carefree, then out of the blue hugs him, guiding Eddie’s head into his neck, sinking into the soft hair with his fingers and squeezing his back with his other hand. “Thank you… for telling me, you know?” He smiles.
“Technically I blurted that out because you are insufferable,” Eddie points out, still too smug for someone who was panicking merely minutes ago.
Buck’s only choice is to let go of the belly laugh that erupts out of him. “Still, you trusted me, thank you,” he says, once they settle into the embrace.
Then he pulls back, kisses Eddie’s temple, and “I love you so much,” he mutters. Lips on skin. Heart on heart, squishing against each of their ribcage, threatening to flee and meet in the middle.
“You sure? I think I also called you an asshole,” Eddie replies, trying to sound pleased with himself, even if he has tears in his eyes and is trying to hide that he’s shaking like a leaf.
He feels Buck’s hands take his face and is met with sincere, soft blue eyes. “You can make up to me…”
“How?”
“How about not leaving again? Maybe forever?”
Eddie chuckles, “I never planned to, cariño.”
Buck requires up to three business days to recover from his best friend calling him a Spanish pet name. That’s the love of his life, for God’s sake. His life is a whole-ass dream.