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1.
When Buck groggily woke up from his dream, his body instinctively resisted opening his eyes. He let out a couple of sleepy moans and buried his face deeper into the pillow, his mind automatically going over what he needed to do today.
Chris had a school project and needed some materials. Buck had promised to buy everything on his list; there was also Jee-Yun's ballet recital at school in the afternoon, and he'd told her he'd bring Uncle Eddie along; and tonight, since it was the first day of their 48-hour break, he and Eddie had planned a date at a fancy restaurant. They'd been so busy lately that they hadn't had much time just for themselves...
It seemed like a pretty great day. He couldn't help but smile, but then he suddenly remembered something more important.
Where was Eddie?
Eddie wasn't there beside him like he always was. Eddie, who would breathe softly in his sleep, who looked like a peaceful princess lying there, and who would give him a gentle kiss on the cheek with a "good morning" when he felt Buck moving around. A cold feeling washed over Buck. He finally opened his eyes and realized something was off about his bed and pillow. That's when he saw he wasn't in their bedroom at all, but on the living room sofa.
For a second, his mind went blank. He sat up quickly, trying hard to remember what had happened. Had they had an argument yesterday? No, that couldn't be it. After their exhausting shift, they'd barely had enough energy to shower. They ordered takeout, ate quickly, said goodnight to Chris who was already in bed, and then fell asleep in each other's arms. He'd been so tired his whole body ached, and the last thing he remembered was the soft tickle of Eddie's hair against his neck.
Buck frowned, confused, as he threw back the blanket—by the way since when had they owned a blanket with this color? Sitting up on the couch, he scanned the room, wondering if he was still half-asleep, because the furniture looked slightly off from what he remembered.
Just as his mind raced to make sense of it, he heard those familiar footsteps. Eddie emerged from the bedroom.
The moment Buck saw him, every uneasy thought vanished. One year married, nearly seven years since they'd met—every morning, Buck woke up loving him more than the day before, a feeling that sometimes startled him. He hadn't known it could be like this until Eddie Diaz——now smiled at him, radiating that "love of my life" glow, voice rough with sleep as he said, "Hey… good morning."
Buck wouldn't have minded waking up on a strange island surrounded by howling hurricanes, as long as Eddie was beside him, he knew everything would be okay then.
Eddie shuffled closer, rubbing his eyes, wearing that soft, sleepy haze only morning Diaz boys could pull off, and Buck felt the urge to propose all over again.
It wasn't like he hadn't done it before. On Valentine's Day this year, Eddie had set down two plane tickets to Italy after dinner, gazing at him tenderly and saying he'd noticed Buck's fascination with Roman history lately——that he'd planned everything, just waiting for them to go. Buck had been quiet like a broken robot, felt his eyes sting, and after five seconds of stunned silence, blurted "marry me" loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear.
Heads turned; a passing waiter nearly dropped an ice bucket. Eddie's face had flushed bright red, then he'd burst out laughing, lifting Buck's hand from the table to press a kiss to his ring finger. "I'll never say no... but sweetheart, we've been married a year."
Buck didn't care. He also didn't care about the "aww" from the room. If he could, he'd marry Eddie a thousand times over.
So when Eddie stepped in front of him, Buck's first instinct was to take his hand. Uncharacteristically, Eddie went frozen for a moment, half the sleep vanishing from his face. Buck stood up still holding his hand, the blanket sliding off his lap onto the couch. He voiced the question that had nagged him since he opened his eyes.
"Did we fight last night?"
He pouted slightly, pulling Eddie's palm to his cheek and nuzzling into it like a golden retriever. Eddie's expression turned as startled as the first time Buck had told him about turritopsis dohrnii—the immortal jellyfish (in theory), when he'd stared in shock and demanded "WHAT" three times in a row.
Now Buck was truly confused. Had he slept off a fight and forgotten? But Eddie blinked and said, "No, we didn't fight." His face relaxed, and his hand on Buck's cheek gently rubbed his ear, making Buck nearly purr with contentment.
Good, no fight then. He didn't really care how he'd ended up on the couch—maybe he'd sleepwalked. He had a busy day ahead, starting with showering and making his husband's favorite breakfast. But first, he needed a good-morning kiss to kickstart the day.
"Alright. Good morning, baby." So he smiled softly, dipped his head, cradled Eddie's face in his hands, and kissed him just as he'd done a thousand times before. He purposefully deepened the kiss, grazing Eddie's lower lip with his teeth, slipping his tongue past to tangle with Eddie's.
But instead of the familiar heat of Eddie's response, Eddie went rigid as the Roman marble statues they'd seen in Italy. Frowning, Buck pulled back slightly, still holding Eddie's face—only to find Eddie staring back at him with pure, unadulterated shock.
"...Eddie?"
Now genuine fear crept in. His first instinct was to joke about what was happening, but as he'd admitted many times, his coping mechanisms fell apart when it came to Eddie. So the joke came out like this:
"Now you're scaring me, baby. You're not gonna divorce me, are you?"
His imagination couldn't even fathom Eddie wanting a divorce, but he could picture himself shattering into pieces like irreparable porcelain.
Eddie stayed silent, and Buck's spine turned to ice, his mind racing to recall any grave mistake from last night. Then Eddie nearly shouted, voice sharp with disbelief, "DIVORCE?!"
Buck pulled Eddie closer by the waist, pressing soft kisses to the corner of his mouth, tip of his nose, the mole beneath his eye, murmuring, "Just so you know, I won't agree. I don't know how to survive without you."
Eddie gently placed his hand on Buck's chest and created some distance between them. Buck stepped back reluctantly, still leaning in to close the gap, when Eddie's next question made him freeze rigid like the Roman marble statues they'd seen in Italy.
"Um..we aren't' married?"
"...What do you mean we aren't' married?!"
2.
Buck sat on the couch, struggling to digest the so-called truth Eddie had just told him. Ten hours ago, he'd said goodnight to their son, planned to attend their niece's ballet recital the next day, and fallen asleep in the arms of his husband.
Now, Eddie was telling him they'd never been married, that Chris was in Texas with Eddie's parents (he longed to air-punch Ramon and Helena Diaz for this), and that Jee-Yun hadn't even started ballet lessons.
("That's not right. She can already perform the entire Sleeping Beauty." "That's your takeaway?! " )
Eddie checked three times if he had a fever or had accidentally ingested something the night before, his worried expression suggesting he might call Bobby for help or directly book a psychiatry appointment on the spot. Buck exerted every ounce of energy to prove his sanity, finally convincing Eddie by accurately listing three of Eddie's preferred lube brands. Thank god Buck knew this information as intimately as he knew Eddie himself, though he did enjoy watching Eddie's face flush scarlet.
He wished this were a nightmare. Buck pinched his arm so hard he nearly yelped, and Eddie shot him a look, instantly recognizing the gesture, rolling his eyes with fondness. That was so Eddie—maybe there was no "this Eddie" or "that Eddie", just Eddie.
Eddie was Eddie, and Buck loves him. A truth as immutable and provable as the second law of thermodynamics.
"Did I just break you?"
Eddie crossed his arms, regarding him with worried eyes. "Are you ok?" Buck sighed heavily. "No, I'm not ok, Eddie. I woke up to find my husband thinks of me as just his best friend, my son is miles away in Texas——" he noted the subtle flinch in Eddie's posture at "my son"——"and I'm missing my niece's ballet recital."
Eddie let out a soft, incredulous laugh at the last part. "Seriously, why are you so fixated on Jee-Yun's performance?"
"Because it's not me being fixated," Buck said, looking up at Eddie, his gaze inevitably tinged with sadness. "You told me about it. You're the uncle who picks her up from ballet class more often, who comes home and tells me which new move she learned, how her teacher praised her, where you took her for strawberry cake as a reward."
When Eddie's beautiful eyes began to shadow with sorrow, Buck instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry," Eddie said quietly. And Buck ached. Hearing Eddie's gentle apology was like having his insides clawed raw. "You have nothing to apologize for," he mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. He felt more exhausted than after a full 48-hour shift.
"How did this happen anyway?" Buck lifted his head from his hands. "Most importantly, how can we fix this? "
Eddie came over and sat down beside him. "If this is some kind of weird body swap, I'm sure my Buck is also in a panic in your universe."
Buck's heart fluttered wildly at the phrase "my Buck," but then he immediately realized something and ground his teeth, saying, "If he dares to somehow get close to my Eddie..."
Eddie laughed abruptly, a warm, startled sound. I'm pretty sure you kissed me the moment you saw me, and I wasn't even your husband. So if you're gonna argue about 'your Eddie' versus 'his Eddie,' I don't think you're winning that debate."
Buck's face burned. "Right. Sorry. God, I basically jumped on you, and you guys are still best friends."
Ten seconds of thick, heavy silence. Buck turned to look at Eddie, who was staring blankly at the TV wall, his profile sharp and perfect in the morning light. Buck would've bet his life that in any universe, Eddie Diaz was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.
"What do you mean 'still'? "
"Because I'm so in love with you that I don't know how long I'd last as just your best friend once I realized it, Eddie." Buck spoke earnestly, even as Eddie kept his face turned away, jaw tight. "I mean, we're always best friends, even when we're married. But I've always wanted more. Wanted you more. All of you. You have no idea."
Eddie turned his face, frowning with a tinge of bitterness. Buck knew Eddie too well, knew exactly what sadness lay beneath that expression. "Maybe in this universe Buck doesn't want me like that."
"Eddie," Buck shuffled closer, "I swear on Jee-Yun's ballet shoes that every Buck in every universe wants all of you." Eddie choked out a laugh, then seemed to remember something and retorted, "Oh, maybe this universe's Buck likes Tommy."
Buck's brows furrowed into a knot.
"Who?"
"...Tommy?"
"Ew."
Eddie quirked an eyebrow at the blunt "ew." Buck's face contorted as if just the memory of the man left a bad taste. "Tommy? The Tommy who flew a helicopter to take my husband to Las Vegas? The Tommy who asked my husband to play basketball? The Tommy I almost fought on a basketball court? That Tommy?"
"I hate basketball but I bought a damn basketball just to stop you from going to the court alone with him, Eddie. His intentions were so obvious, I swear I'd lost it if he got within five meters of you."
Buck's tone suddenly softened, "But the sex after we came back was mind-blowing. Turns out you like me being a little possessive."
Eddie's face flushed tomato-red. Buck recalled Eddie's earlier comment and pressed, "What do you mean this universe's Buck likes Tommy?"
"Well…you kinda broke my ankle to get his attention." Buck nearly launched off the couch. "I WHAT?!" Eddie noddly entertainmentally, and Buck stood before him, hands on hips, looking ready to faint from disbelief. "God, he's such a mess."
Eddie grabbed a nearby throw pillow and hurled it at him. "Don't talk about him like that." Buck caught the pillow, shaking his head in amused despair. "Protective, huh?" Eddie nodded mutely, swaying his head.
Buck stood up and only then noticed the cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of the living room, the kind that looked like they were meant for moving. His heart plummeted to his stomach. "Are you planning to move, Eddie?" Eddie's mood dipped instantly. He stood up too, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah. I'm moving to Texas. I can't miss more of Chris's growth."
Buck couldn't help but notice the guilt in Eddie's expression. He knew how hard this decision was for Eddie, knew that Chris would always come first for him—and Buck understood that completely. But the thought of Eddie leaving him felt like his heart was being torn in two. He gave a bitter smile. "How'd I take the news?" "Not very well," Eddie grimaced.
"You stormed into a fire, tried to adopt a beagle, sabotaged every single house visit for my sublet, and took over my lease."
Buck shook his head with a defeated sigh."Oh my god."
"I guess he is a mess," Eddie sighed. "We are a mess." Suddenly, Eddie sat up straight, as if struck by curiosity. "How did you two get together anyway?" "Oh." A faint flush crept up Buck's cheeks—recalling their first date always made his heart race, no matter the context. "You took me on a date after I got struck by lightning."
When his body had barely recovered, he was overwhelmed by the concern of family and friends. He knew everyone meant well, but all he really wanted was to curl up on Eddie's couch and sleep to the sound of Chris's video games. Then, he'd unexpectedly discovered a knack for math—Eddie had taken him to the firehouse poker game, and they'd cleaned up, winning hand over fist.
After leaving the card game, he'd gotten slightly drunk from the drinks Captain Mehta and the chief kept pouring. Eddie was chatting with Rosen, staying by his side. Their shoulders had pressed together naturally, and Buck had caught the faint scent of Eddie's cologne—the one he only wore on dates.
In his blue suit, Eddie's frame had looked impossibly beautiful, the tailored waistline making Buck swallow hard and look away. Back at the car, they'd stashed their steak prizes in the trunk. As they'd climbed into the vehicle, Eddie had suddenly stopped him, reaching up to adjust his tie.
They were so close: Eddie's hands lingered near his neck, focused on straightening his bow tie, those deep brown eyes gazing at Buck like he were something precious. Buck wasn't been able to help himself—he just had to kiss him. So he grabbed Eddie's wrist, pulled him closer, and pressed his lips to Eddie's, cupping his face.
And after that, there had been countless more kisses—spanning the three roles they'd worn for each other: boyfriends, fiancés, husbands.
"It wasn't a date." Buck's reverie was interrupted by Eddie's voice. He blinked, startled. "It was definitely a date, Eddie."
"You always thought it was a date?" Eddie winced, shaking his head. "We didn't do anything. We just took the steaks home, opened a few beers, and fell asleep on the couch talking. I didn't fix your tie—hell, you weren't even wearing a tie that day."
Buck's face scrunched in disbelief. "That's it? Because of a goddamn tie?"Eddie laughed dryly, a self-deprecating sound. "Maybe because this universe version of you didn't feel about me the way you do."
"Eddie, I don't know how many times I have to say this to convice you, but I'll keep saying it." Buck lowered his voice, leaning closer as he saw Eddie's eyes grow glassy. "I'm always in love with you. In any possible way, in every other universe."
Eddie sniffled. "I thought I was straight until you kissed me this morning." Buck blinked. "Oh. Uh. Sorry again?" "Thought you're gonna say you're welcome." They locked eyes, then burst into laughter, the sound warm and shaky.
"You guys are really, really a mess."
"Hey, don't get cocky. Maybe in some universes, they figured it out sooner. Like… after the will?" "So you admit the will was your love confession?" Buck arched a brow, teasing. Eddie sighed, "I wasn't aware of it at the time."
"You basically gave me your heart, Eddie," Buck said softly.
"I did." Eddie nodded, firm. "I did."
3.
Eddie had experienced more emotional whiplash in one morning than he had in the past six months—and that period had included enough drama to fill a lifetime. The night before, he'd gone to a farewell dinner with the 118, then come home with Buck, who'd gestured animatedly at his kitchen, listing off renovation ideas. Eddie had watched, amused and helpless, as Buck paced the room, gesturing wildly.
Eventually, Buck had flopped onto the couch, claiming exhaustion, and watched as Eddie began methodically packing boxes. Even though Buck had tried to stay upbeat, Eddie could tell he was struggling.
Especially when Buck was tired, he couldn't hide his emotions—now, wrapped in a blanket, he watched Eddie carry a cardboard box from the kitchen to the living room, his expression so mournful it looked like he might cry. Eddie sighed, set down the box, and went to the bedroom to retrieve the pillow Buck always used when he stayed over.
He handed it to Buck, who clutched it gratefully before lying down.
This couch had seen countless nights: the weeks after Eddie got shot, when Buck had slept here every night, bolting into Eddie's room at the slightest sound; the days after the lightning strike, when Buck had sought refuge here to escape overbearing family concern, finding more peace on this couch than in his own loft; the night Tommy dumped him, when Buck had shown up with beer, and they'd gotten silently, companionably drunk, slumped together until morning. Even if Buck hadn't signed his lease, Eddie knew this would always be Buck's home.
Unable to resist, Eddie reached out and ruffled Buck's curls. His blue eyes shone brightly in the dim living room light. "Goodnight, Buck." "Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up tomorrow?" Eddie brushed a curl from Buck's forehead. "I promise."
And then on the next morning, he was so abruptly kissed by Buck that he nearly forgot his own name.
This Buck claimed to be his husband, said they'd been married over a year, and the way he described their life sounded like a boldest daydream. He couldn't help imagining their kisses in the firehouse casino parking lot, mornings waking up tangled together, the life they'd built—together.
It wasn't that they hadn't already built a life. Just… a more intimate one. With more promises. The kind of life Eddie had never dared to want before.
"You're a little different from my Buck,"
As Buck wandered the room, observing and describing their home like he was playing "spot the difference"—"We repainted this wall," "Chris has two succulents here," "This calendar's bigger"—Eddie suddenly interrupted him. "A little. But different."
"Different how?" Buck crossed his arms, eyes playful.
"More… more certain. More confident. More relaxed."
Buck smiled, and in any universe, that smile was like California sunlight breaking over the coast.
"Well, I guess love changes people."
Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Both of you are sappy. So sappy."
"You love me anyway," Buck said.
Eddie had no words to argue. He knew the other Eddie must have told Buck this truth over and over, until it seeped into every vein of him, every cell of him, until the first thing Buck thought when he opened his eyes was that he was loved unconditionally and deeply by Eddie. No wonder he was different. Confident, certain, relaxed.
Eddie's stomach lurched with a sudden, sharp pain, as if someone had grabbed it and twisted.
He'd never told his Buck those words. (Though he'd only just realized this truth that morning.) His Buck deserved to hear it over and over: I'll love you no matter what.
Not only had he never said it, but he was leaving Buck—leaving him with that shattered look in his eyes as he'd watched Eddie pack, like Eddie had just driven a knife through his heart. He'd ruined everything.
"Eddie, look at me. Eddie."
Eddie was sitting on the couch as Buck knelt in front of him, tilting his head up. They were* the same person after all: the curly hair, the birthmark, the blue eyes, the way he looked at Eddie. If this was the gaze Buck had always held for him, Eddie couldn't fathom how he'd been blind to it for so long.
"Talk to him."
Eddie took a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling as he exhaled. "I keep making mistakes. I've messed everything up… I don't know how to fix this, and I have to go to Texas—"
"I don't love you because you never made mistakes, babe." Buck said softly, resting a hand on Eddie's knee and rubbing it reassuringly. "I love you because you're *you*. You're learning from your mistakes in your own way. You're always willing to give everything for the people you love. You trust me unconditionally, always have my back. Just being near you makes me feel safe."
Eddie blinked, then suddenly said out of nowhere, "I think I know when I started falling in love with you."
"The well."
"You knew?"
"You've told me." Buck said proudly.
"Huh. We really are the same person." "Yes, you are." Buck took his hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, and smiled softly as he stood. "But I really miss my husband right now, and we have errands to run and a ballet show to watch."
"You said you woke up here this morning—maybe you'll wake up back there tomorrow," Eddie shrugged.
"And miss Jee-Yun's recital?"
"She'll forgive you," Eddie laughed. "And technically speaking, there is an Uncle Buck who'll be there to watch it."Buck huffed good-naturedly. "Fair enough."
"So what's your plan for today? You've got a Buck at your disposal, technically speaking."
"I was supposed to pack," Eddie mumbled weakly, gesturing at the scattered boxes around them.
Buck heaved an overly dramatic sigh. "If your Buck knew all I'm doing here is helping you leave the state, he'd want to bite my head off." Eddie snorted. "Don't worry—you're doing more than just helping me move."
"Yeah?" Buck's eyes lit up.
"Yeah." Eddie replied, gazing back at him with deep affection and firm resolve.
4.
To be honest, Eddie woke up that morning with a knot in his stomach. He'd half-convinced himself that the entire encounter with the other Buck had been a dream, but he remembered too vividly the feel of Buck's lips on his, the way he'd bustled around packing boxes, how he'd known exactly which items Eddie would want to keep without even asking.
He remembered the way Buck had lain on the couch that evening, murmuring "Nice to meet you, Eddie," with a loaded look after saying goodnight.
Sitting up, Eddie saw the cardboard box in the corner of his bedroom, labeled in Buck's messy scrawl: Eddie's Personal Items. He'd doodled a heart over the dot of the "i" in Eddie, though it had smudged so much in the tracing that it looked more like a crooked branch.
So it hadn't been a dream.
Eddie wasn't sure if Buck in the living room was awake yet, and for some reason, he was scared to face him.
What if his Buck hadn't come back? They'd both spiral into another breakdown and have to awkwardly ask for help from someone else.
What if his Buck had come back?What if experiencing a day of being married to Eddie in another universe made him realize he didn't love Eddie like that? What if they grew awkward, drifted apart, and Eddie spent the rest of his life pining for a love that would never be?
He didn't understand how anyone could ever get over Evan Buckley once they'd fallen for him. He wanted to ask all of Buck's exes: After knowing what it's like to kiss him, can you really accept never kissing him ever again?
So he sat there, frozen, until he heard footsteps approaching the bedroom. Buck's eyes were red, like he'd been crying. He knocked softly, "Hey. Good morning." then leaned against the doorframe when Eddie offered a small smile.
This was his Buck—Eddie knew it the second he saw him. The difference between his Buck and yesterday's Buck was a thousand "I love you"s that Eddie had yet to pour into him.
"Hey. Do you like the journey?" Eddie asked, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.
Buck smiled dryly. "So I noticed there are a lot of boxes in the living room with my handwriting on them. Eddie, if you tell me all he did here yesterday was help you pack, I swear to God—"
"I love you," Eddie said.
Those three words had never sounded more right. He'd thought that when he finally said them, he'd panic like a house on fire—but instead, it was like being a mathematician who'd just solved a problem that had perplexed the field for centuries. All he felt was immense relief, release, and resolve.
"You love me? Like, me? Not the Buck who somehow gets more courage, who gets to marry you, who gets your love back, who somehow has a whole future with you..."
"Buck," Eddie interrupted with a soft voice, climbing out of bed and stepping close, cupping his face to watch the birthmark above his eyebrow flush deep red.
Buck's gaze skittered over Eddie's face...Eddie understood and felt the same way——it was the look of someone who treasures something so deeply that they don't know what to do with it.
"I'm gonna say it again, and I'm gonna say it for the rest of my life. I love you."
Buck's expression softened like a dam breaking, a shaky chuckle escaping him as he lifted his hand to clasp the one Eddie had cupping his face. "Eddie, I love you so much it scares me to death."
"Oh, and I will regret forever not wearing a tie when I went to play poker with you."
Eddie laughed—okay, he tried, but he had to kiss his Buck.