Work Text:
Things have never been less normal at the 118 than they are right now. Not during the lawsuit. Not when Lucy joined the team. Not when Bobby retired.
Buck has taken up crocheting (something to do with his twiddling fingers) and is making a sweater for Pepa, who he has been going out to lunch with for several weeks now. She is the only Diaz he regularly sees anymore, except at work of course, and it is starting to get to him.
He's not trying to be nosey, but he eyes the way Chim and Eddie giggle over by the pool table, hitting each other with their sticks and egging each other on during their turns. Ravi is in the corner, watching them in amusement, and Hen is rolling her eyes at their antics as she watches the game unfold.
If he digs deep into his psyche about it, he feels isolated.
Ever since Eddie came back (and Chim told Eddie he couldn't go back to Texas and Buck couldn't transfer), Buck has never felt further from his team - from his family. Even when they were in the absolute thick of their grief (RIP Bobby), they never felt so far from him.
The clicking of his crochet hook pauses for a moment, and he curses to himself. He missed a loop and needs to fix it. As he starts to pick at it, he goes back to dooming.
It's all a lot, but he can feel it especially at the station. After his shifts, he goes home (alone) and spends the night at his new apartment (alone), and then he does it all over again (alone), only occasionally having human interaction (like lunch with Pepa or Maddie).
Buck has just picked his hook back up to resume his loops, when the tones sound, and he huffs, dropping his project to the coffee table.
+
After they get back to the station, everyone is exhausted. They only have an hour left in their shift, but Cap has taken the station offline to let everyone shower and get ready to leave. The fire they fought was a beast in a fucking paper factory, so of course they were all beat.
They've all showered and are dressing to leave when Buck feels a hand clamp on his shoulder.
He was dooming about the 118 - mainly Eddie - and how he is thinking of transferring again. If they hate him and aren't going to say anything, he isn't going to sit around and wait for something to happen. He's just going to take initiative and leave. So much for not being allowed to transfer. And stay enduring this?
"Where have you been today?" Eddie asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He looks mildly concerned but doesn't ask any further questions.
"Uh...I'm fine," Buck lies, shrugging off Eddie's hand and walking out of the locker room. He waves at his co-workers as he lumbers to his truck.
Eddie walks behind him, pace steady as he chats with the others on his own way out. By the time Eddie has reached his own car, Buck is silently fuming. He's behind the wheel of his truck with the engine on, and he wants to floor it out of the parking lot.
But there is Eddie. Slowly meandering to the Prius, still sort of in front of Buck's vehicle.
And he doesn't look like he's going to move any time soon, since he's PUTTING HIS BAG ON THE HOOD AND RIFLING THROUGH IT.
Buck's eye twitches, and he rolls his window down, sticking his head out.
"Can you do that on your own car?"
Eddie looks put out for moment and shrugs, "Yours is closer."
Buck dramatically glares at the car in the spot next to his and then looks to Eddie.
"Are you being serious right now?"
"Are you?" Eddie responds, his eyes catching Buck's with a steadiness that gives Buck pause.
"What's the problem, Eddie?"
"You tell me. I don't know what your deal is, but you've been terrorizing us for days - weeks even."
And that punches Buck in the gut. He sags in his seat and stares at the wheel and picks at the leather for something to do.
Of COURSE they've been talking about him again. The Great 118, never able to tell him to his face when he's pissing them off. When he's not enough. When-
"You do this all the time," Eddie complains, walking to Buck's window. He reaches a hand inside and cups the back of Buck's neck, making him close his eyes briefly in pleasure, before he opens his eyes and meets Eddie's. "You crash out and expect us to just...know or read your mind and make you feel better. No one can help you if you don't ask us. And...come on, man. We JUST talked about this. If you can't be vulnerable with me, who CAN you be vulnerable with? We almost had a fist fight in my kitchen, and then you saw me cry."
Buck wrinkles his nose.
"We weren't going to have a fist fight."
"I flew at you."
"You wouldn't lay a hand on me."
"Ya think so?"
"I know so. You...you love me too much to ever want to hurt me like that."
Eddie lets out a little stutter sigh and smiles kindly at Buck.
"I guess."
Eddie's hand is still on the back of Buck's neck, just resting there, a calming pressure.
"You hate me," Buck blurts out, and Eddie quirks a brow at him.
"Well...that was fast."
"No, I-I mean...I feel excluded. Like you're all having fun together, and I'm not invited. And all I do is go home by myself and spend my days by myself, and...and...the only Diaz I get face time with anymore is Pepa."
Eddie looks exasperated.
"Buck, YOU chose to move out. We could be seeing each other, eating breakfast together, and...sleeping in the same house every freaking day. But, again, YOU chose to leave. No one asked you to. You only ask Pepa if she wants to go out. Never me or Chris. And when I've asked in the last few weeks you've had other plans (when he's had plans with Maddie). And...you're excluding yourself. Why not play pool with us? Why do you have to crochet or knit or whatever? Why not workout with me instead of reading your book?"
"It's a two way street," Buck mumbles.
And Eddie sighs, squeezing the hand on the back of Buck's neck.
"Okay, yes," he concedes, "but given the context of the move out it seemed like you wanted space. Especially from...me."
Buck frowns, shaking his head.
"That's dumb. I never want space from you. I think you could live inside my skin, and you wouldn't be close enough."
And Buck freezes. He hadn't meant to say that, but it was SO true. FUCK.
He's looking back to his wheel again, cheeks going cherry red. And Eddie sounds like he's losing his breath.
"Really? You...you want to talk about this right now?"
Buck is meeting his eyes in surprise.
"Talk about...what?"
Eddie rolls his eyes, and not even a second later he is moving his hand up and cradling Buck's head as he ducks his head to kiss Buck square in the lips. It's a little awkward through the open door of his truck. Buck briefly considers that Eddie is probably standing on the kick drop, and he wonders if he should ask him to-
"Stop thinking," Eddie breaths against his lips, dropping short and sweet kisses onto his lips and then his cheeks and him. "Just enjoy this."
And then they're kissing again and Buck is trying to catalogue this feeling to remember it forever. The shape of Eddie's teeth, how his cheeks feel against Buck's tongue, how his spit feels and tastes in Buck's mouth. God, being in his skin really wouldn't be enough. Buck briefly considers: if they were conjoined like twins, would it be enough? They simply needed to converge at a cellular level - mitosis or some shit. (Note: Look up mitosis. Look up binary fission. Look up merging two atoms together. Look up can atoms really explode if they touch? Look up-
"You're still thinking," Eddie sighs, and he pulls away, looking breathless and beautifully pink and a little exasperated. "We should go home."
And Buck blue screens. Not a single thought crosses his brain.
"To my house," Eddie clarifies, leaning forward to plant a sweet kiss to Buck's nose. "And maybe you should consider never leaving. Also maybe not maybe. Definitely consider that. And we can sleep in the same bed and see each other every day and you'll get to see all of the Diazes all you want. And we can...what did you say? Share skin. You're going to be SO tired of me."
He's blushing, like he isn't intending to say all this, but the words are vomiting out of him with no restraint.
"Never," Buck murmurs, mesmerized.
And before Eddie can open his mouth, Buck clarifies.
"Never get tired of you. SO cool with breaking my lease for you...again...and sharing skin ALWAYS."
Eddie grins.
"And just as a ground rule: I refuse to read your mind. You need to tell me when your needs are not being met. That goes for everyone. No one can help you if you don't help yourself."
Buck's stares at him thoughtfully, and Eddie stares back, eyebrow raised in a challenge.
"You'll learn," Buck decides. "Once I figure out how to merge our molecules. You'll know my every thought."
Eddie grimaces.
"I don't know if that's as ideal as you think it is."
And Buck shrugs.
"It will be enough to know you don't hate me."
"Never," Eddie promises.
He leans in once more to kiss Buck on the cheek, and then he hops down from the truck (Buck was right about the kick stand).
"See ya at home?" Eddie calls on his way around to his car, as he grabs his bag from the hood of Buck's truck.
He turns to look over his shoulder at Buck with a smirk that is reminiscent of a look they exchanged months ago in the rain, when Eddie was running towards something that was away from Buck.
And it takes Buck's breath away for a moment.
"I...uh...yeah. See ya at HOME, Eds."
And then they're parting ways, and Buck can't help but think that he's never felt closer to anyone in his entire life. And, even though this is new, he has never felt as normal and natural as he does right now.