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The shift was rough, absolutely backbreaking work. Buck was yelled at exactly 6 times by victims for things that were completely out of his control. They ran overtime, an MVC pushed them 2 hours after their shift ended, and they lost 2 people today in a fire that was completely out of control. And that’s why they were here now, Buck and Eddie crammed into a booth seat at their favourite dingy dive bar, 3 drinks in.
There isn't anything special about this particular bar, Chimney took him here after his 3rd shift with the 118, and almost a year later to the day, Buck brought Eddie here. The floors are in a constant state of stickiness, making walking around just that little bit harder. Tables splintering dangerously on the corners. The upholstery of the booth seats started to fray about 3 years ago, revealing the yellow foam underneath. It’s not a great bar by any means, but it's theirs, tables adorned with drink rings left by them, Bobby’s favourite zero beer collecting dust in the back of the bar fridge, Buck’s old number scribbled on the bathroom stall door—a relic of his 1.0 days. Each table in the bar holds a memory of the 118 for him, which is why it's their default.
The alcohol has helped numb the emotional and physical ache left from the shift. This isn’t something they typically allow themselves to do, drink away the hurt, but the thought of Buck going back to his empty house —the bone-chilling quiet— is too much for him on a day like this. With Chris at his camp, Buck knows the sentiment is echoed by Eddie, even if he won’t say it out loud.
Their first drink leads to them talking about the shift, the calls, the hurt.
Their second drink leads them to talking about family: Maddie, Christopher, their parents.
Their third drink lands them in Buck’s current least favourite conversation point — dating.
“How was that date with that unemployed guy?” snips Eddie whilst leaning back in the booth, spreading his arms across the tops of the cushions casually.
“Eddie, you know he was a barista.” Answers Buck with an eye roll.
“Yeah, part-time.”
“What’s wrong with working part-time?”
“Nothing! I just think a thirty-year-old should have a full-time job,” shrugs Eddie.
“He was a trust fund baby. He’s doing just fine, Eds.”
The date in question was two weeks ago with Charlie, who worked at the cafe five minutes from his new house. He was a wall of sculpted muscle, almost as tall as Buck and was covered in those patchwork tattoos that all the hot guys are getting nowadays. He had been sweet, really sweet. Asked Buck out after his fifth visit to the cafe with a free coffee and a number scribbled on the cup.
They exchanged a couple of texts back and forth before arranging to go to a rooftop bar that was a little too trendy for Buck’s taste, but had good cocktails. Buck got one overpriced martini down his throat before launching into a long-winded rant on his recent move, how long it took to find a nice house, the cost of movers, and how he missed living with Eddie and Chris.
Partway through his monologue, his date interrupted and said. “Dude, you’re cute and all, but I’d rather not sit here while you talk about your ex all night.”
“Ex? What ex?”
“Eddie, the guy you’ve been talking about for half an hour.”
“Huh? No, Eddie’s not my ex; he’s straight. He’s my best friend.”
Charlie’s face immediately morphed into something that can only be described as pity. “Oh, Buck. We’ve all been there.” He said, while patting Buck on the thigh twice, it was meant to be sympathetic but stunk of condescension. “I know it sucks, but you just have to move on.”
Buck now goes to the cafe 10 minutes from his house.
“Yeah, I’m not seeing him again.” Buck takes another sip of his G&T. “I think I’m going to hold off on dating for a while.”
Eddie does his signature pensive frown-not-frown, —that is not remotely endearing— nodding his head thoughtfully. “ Why’s that?”
The slide of the gin and tonic he is nursing leaves him more loose-lipped than he’s comfortable with, his normal filter slightly eroded, leading —inevitably — to his thoughts stumbling straight out of his head and through his lips.
“Maddie thinks —” Buck trails off, leaving his sentence purposefully incomplete.
Eddie looks at Buck, studying his regretful expression, clearly waiting for him to continue. “What does Maddie think?” Eddie probes after the silence drags on for a moment too long.
“She thinks… She thinks I’m in love with you. Which I'm not!” The words leave his lips in a frenzy, tumbling out before he can stop them.
Buck watches Eddie’s face fall, eyes cast down into his lap, face contorting and brows furrowing in something between sadness and confusion. “You’re not?”
Buck scoffs, “Jesus Eddie, is your ego so big that you’re upset I'm not in love with you?”
“Dios Buck. No, it's not that, I just… If I was gay I'd be in love with you. I dunno.” Eddie's eyes dart back and forth, cast downwards towards the table, absolutely refusing to meet Buck’s eyeline.
Buck feels his eyes widen in shock. “Really?”
“Yeah, of course, you’re my partner. You know I love you,” he answers at a volume Buck can barely hear over the commotion of a bar.
“Oh,” Buck breathes in lieu of a response.
“Sorry. I made it weird; you don’t need to be in love with me. That’s not fair to you.”
“Eddi—”
“Let's move on,” he responds curtly, leaving little room to argue.
Eddie doesn't let the moment still, immediately launching into a rant about his neighbour who recently moved in across the road and how loud they play their music. Buck chimes in with a few jabs about Eddie sounding like a grumpy old man. The conversation is stilted, with Eddie filling the silence that Buck’s long-winded ramblings would normally occupy.
Throughout Eddie’s attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere, Buck's mind keeps floating back to ‘I’d be in love with you’ and ‘If I was gay’. The words repeat in his mind like a broken record, replaying over and over like it’s a code he’s trying to crack. There’s a thick tension when they part, Eddie buffering at the double doors, faltering before going in for a stilted hug with stiff arms that linger just a second longer than they normally would.
The words repeat on his way home, during his night routine, while he’s staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself to sleep. A constant, deafening chorus of ‘I’d be in love with you’ and ‘If I was gay’.
Since Buck came out, it feels like everyone has been watching, waiting for that second shoe to drop, for that grand realisation. Like it's a forgone conclusion, ‘Oh Buck’s bi? He must be in love with his best friend’. But contrary to popular belief, it just isn't like that. Not some inevitability like everyone seems to think.
But Eddie seems to think it would be an inevitability for him, a simple equation.
‘Buck is a man, I love Buck, if I were into men, I would be in love with him.’
And when you apply that logic to Buck? The conclusion is fairly straightforward.
But he’s not in love with Eddie. He can’t be, he won’t be. No matter what Tommy and Maddie —and apparently Eddie— seem to think. He can’t be in love with Eddie; Buck refuses to be that guy, the queer man hopelessly in love with his best friend.
Because what would it mean to be in love with Eddie? To know that the only person you want with all of your will is so out of reach. When the person you’d give everything for can never feel the same way about you. Not by any fault of his own, just purely biological, a barrier built by Buck’s chromosomes.
No amount of loving Eddie will ever change that immovable fact, will ever make Eddie love him back. No amount of pining and wishing and fantasising will make Eddie gay.
So Buck isn’t in love with Eddie.
—
Buck walks into shift a tactical half hour before he typically would, purposefully avoiding Eddie’s arrival, who is always 15 minutes early like clockwork. He comes in feeling more than unnerved. Eddie and Buck have not spoken since their night out, a strong deviation from their very regular check-ins that have been standard throughout their relationship. Buck’s not too sure why he didn't reach out, but deep down it’s because he's mad, he’s mad at Eddie for making the same assumption as everyone else, he’s mad at Tommy for planting this seed in his brain in the first place, he’s mad at Maddie for not believing him when he says that it isn't the case. But ultimately, he’s mad that everyone seems to want him to be miserable.
Throughout the shift, Buck and Eddie silently agree to play a game of mouse and mouse, snaking out of a room as one arrives, using the gym at different times. Their chores, which typically elicit a commiserating groan from Chimney about how ‘these aren’t two-person jobs’ are done solo.
But Buck is watching Eddie, and he can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, looking at him impossibly softly and regretfully. And every so often, those wide, mournful eyes will meet Buck’s, and Buck feels his breath catch, sending waves of warmth throughout his body. But the fleeting eye contact also makes Buck's eyes well with unshed tears, his emotions threatening to spill right out, much to his embarrassment. Each time their eyes connect, he watches Eddie open his mouth to speak, only to slam it shut when no sounds come out.
And every time, Buck’s the one to look away first.
—
Walking out of the locker room after his shift is nothing short of a relief. The whole day has been stilted, uncomfortable tension bleeding throughout the 24. On multiple occasions, Buck walked in on Eddie and Hen huddled together, whispering until they caught his figure from the corner of their eyes.
As he goes to reach for his truck's door handle, he feels a firm hand snake around his bicep, stopping him in his tracks.
“Can we talk?”
“Eddie, I can’t do this right now”
“Please?” The plea from Eddie and the desperation in his voice knocks all the fight out of Buck.
“Yeah, alright, sure.”
“Can I ask you something selfish?” he pleads.
Buck nods lightly, almost imperceptibly. His breath caught in his throat.
“Why aren’t you in love with me?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically tinny and laced with uncertainty.
Buck exhales tightly through his nose, “Because you’re straight”
“And if I wasn’t?”
“Eddie, why are you doing this to me?” snaps Buck harshly, his built-up frustrations slamming into him all at once. “What’s the point of this hypothetical? Are you trying to humiliate me, or get a little boost to your ego? Am I some kind of notch in your belt?”
He shakes his head sharply, “No, I’m not, I…” Eddie makes eye contact with him; their height difference makes him tilt his head back, eyes wide and pleading, “Evan, please just answer the question,” he begs.
Buck’s never been one to deny Eddie anything, no matter how livid he is. “If you weren’t straight.” He lets out a shaky exhale, running a hand through his unkempt curls. “Well then, I’d be in love with you, I guess, but you’re —“
“I’m not,” interrupts Eddie sharply with a wide grin on his face. “I’m not straight.”
“Huh?”
“C’mon, Buck,” he lightly teases with a smile curling the corner of his lips. “I know you heard me. Do you need me to repeat it?”
Buck feels his heart in his throat. “So you’re…”
Eddie takes a steadying intake of breath. “Gay,” he answers with confident finality.
“And…”
Eddie’s face widens with a deep smile, light blush rising on his cheeks. “In love with you”
“And I’m…”
“In love with me… I think,” he coyly answers.
“Oh,” breathes Buck.
“Oh? Is that all you can say?” chuckles Eddie.
“Hold on.” Buck feels his foundation of the concrete parking lot below him slowly crumbling, leaving his legs unsteady. “Just give me a second to wrap my head around this.”
“No problem, Buck, take your time.”
Buck has never even entertained the idea that Eddie might not be straight, an irrefutable fact of the universe. A form of mental block created by his mind in a desperate plea for self-preservation.
Now with that protective barrier destroyed, Buck feels the years of built-up history crashing down in one fell swoop, like a dam finally splintering under the weight of the tons of emotions it was tasked with holding back.
Buck feels his breath catch at the weight of Eddie’s heady gaze, completely pinned down. His eyes are slightly crinkled from the almost cocky smirk on his face. He looks at Buck like he knows, knows the complete depths of his feelings. And for the first time, Buck is completely okay with it, entirely happy with Eddie peering straight through his carefully constructed facade.
In this moment, looking Eddie in the eyes, he sees the beauty he spent so long trying to ignore. As if the inverse of rose-tinted glasses has finally been removed, freeing him from the dark sheen that had previously clouded his vision. Buck can now truly see the sharp, straight slope of his nose, his wide and impossibly sparkling brown eyes, his pink and plump lips. Eddie’s the most gorgeous man he’s seen in his entire life.
It’s not the first time he’s thought of Eddie as beautiful, but the first time he lets himself.
“I think I’m in love with you, too,” answers Buck
“You think?”
“Yeah, but I think I need to test your hypothesis first.” A furious blush colours Buck’s skin pink.
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
“A kiss.”
Eddie's face splits into a wide grin. “That I can do.” He steps even closer to Buck, planting a chaste kiss to Buck's lips.
The kiss is soft, sweet, and so intoxicatingly Eddie. It is also far too short. Eddie makes a move to pull away, only for Buck to loop his arm around Eddie’s waist, hauling him in for a deep and indulgent kiss, his other hand moving to cradle Eddie's jaw.
Eddie lets out a surprised yelp but is immediately receptive, opening his mouth and snaking his arms around Buck’s neck. The kiss sends shivers down his spine, immediately melting into Eddie’s light hold. He nips lightly at Buck’s bottom lip, eliciting an automatic groan of pleasure from Buck. They quickly settle into a rhythm, a dizzying push and pull, swapping between giving and taking control easily. Kissing Eddie is a revelation; it makes him question if he’s ever had a good kiss before this. It's less the mechanics of it, more so the knowledge of whose lips are pressed on his.
Eddie pulls away, somewhat breathless. “So what’s the verdict?”
“Hmmm, no, I don’t think so. Might need to test again,” he teases with a beaming smile on his face.
“Is that so?” Eddie narrows his eyes, looking up at Buck through his lashes.
“Yeah, need to expand the sample size.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, “I guess we’ve got to respect the scientific method, huh?”
This time, Eddie is the one to haul Buck in, using his grip around Buck’s neck to pull him down for an immediately greedy kiss. Buck groans at the feel of Eddie's lips, the taste of Eddie’s tongue on his, the enveloping warmth of Eddie's body. Buck uses his grip on Eddie’s waist to pull him in impossibly closer, connecting them from head to toe. Eddie lets out a light moan before walking the pair back, pushing Buck up against the cold metal of his car door. Eddie pins him back, immobilising him. Buck relinquishes easily, having zero qualms with letting Eddie have his way. The pair are both moaning uninhibitedly, the vibrations of which send shockwaves through Buck’s body. It’s unshockingly easy for them to get lost in each other, hands skimming under their shirts, skin gliding over skin.
Buck pulls back slightly, seeking air. He leans forward to connect their temples, “Okay, fine, you win. I’m in love with you.”
Eddie lets out a light chuckle, “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent,” he says before tipping his chin forward for a final peck, which is horribly ineffective due to the wide smiles on their faces.
As they part, a cold chill passes through the newly created space between them. It suddenly hits them both that they’ve just been making out in the middle of their work parking lot, very much visible to all of B shift and the few lingering members of A shift.
They both turn their heads like deer caught in headlights, lips covered in the other's spit, cheeks flushed. Absolutely everyone in the firehouse is watching them. Buck sees members of B-shift exchange twenties, Hen send Eddie a very enthusiastic thumbs up, and a couple of eyerolls from the remaining crowd.
Eddie and Buck both swing back around to each other. As they make eye contact, they immediately break into full on belly laughs, folding over and tucking their heads into the crook of the other's shoulder.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” laughs Buck into the skin of Eddie’s neck.
“I’m pretty sure it was inevitable,” answers Eddie.
“Oh, okay, I see how it is!” Buck gives Eddie a light shove, causing what can only be described as a giggle to fall from Eddie’s lips.
“So…what now?” Asks Buck whilst rocking back and forth on his heels
Eddie leans in, lips ghosting over Buck’s earlobe, “You free tonight, Buckley?” He whispers into the shell of Buck’s ear.
“You asking me on a date?” asks Buck, voice quivering.
“Yeah, 7 pm. I’ll pick you up?”
“Oh, in your Prius?” Ribs Buck.
“What’s wrong with my Prius?” Eddie crosses his arms sharply, feigning indignation.
“Nothing!” Buck throws his hands up defensively. “Very…environmental.”
“Dickhead,” mumbles Eddie.
“You love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”