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“That was… intense,” Buck comments, as Eddie slips into the passenger’s seat of his truck.
“That’s kind of the definition of an intervention.”
Buck cuts Eddie a look of unease as he turns the engine over.
The whole situation had been strange. Eddie had been sitting on Buck’s couch when Athena called to let him know they were both coming over, and no, it wasn’t an invitation they could decline. So they’d piled into Buck’s car and bore witness to Hen and Chim having it out at Athena’s dining room table. Even got into it themselves for a moment, though it was more bickering than whatever was going on at the other end of the table.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks.
“Nothing, just…” Buck trails off for a moment and takes a deep breath. “I’m worried about Hen.”
That’s not what the look was about, Eddie can tell, but it’s still the truth.
“Me too,” Eddie says. “But at least there’s a plan now, right? Everything is out in the open and we can be supportive.”
Buck nods as he drives them out of the hospital parking lot.
The drive is quiet but not uncomfortable. It’s been a long night, and while Buck usually has a hundred things to talk Eddie’s ear off about, he gets it. Truth be told, it’s been a long year. A harrowing twelve months, all in all. Shit just seems to keep piling up.
The two of them have been a little off-kilter lately. Eddie feels it, so he knows Buck feels it too. How they’re out of sync just enough for them both to notice, even if nobody else can. It makes Eddie’s chest ache in a way it has no right to. Not yet, not the time, not this version of himself.
The city lights pass by outside the window and some song Eddie only knows because Buck introduced him to it plays on the radio. The distance between them is his own fault, he thinks. There was Christopher and Texas and Bobby, and, well, there was the life-changing revelation.
The only reason Eddie hasn’t told Buck he’s gay is because it all feels so big. But it all feels so big because he hasn’t talked it through with his best friend. Then again, he can’t talk it through with his best friend because Eddie is pretty sure he’s in love with the man. On the other hand, no one has ever looked at Eddie quite like that before.
So the Buck of it all has had Eddie at a standstill for months.
“Hey,” Buck says, making Eddie look over at him. “You don’t think, uh… That wouldn’t happen to us, right?”
Eddie’s brow furrows. “How do you mean?”
“Chim and Hen are best friends,” Buck begins slowly, white-knuckling the steering wheel. “And I guess it’s kind of settled or whatever now, but I don’t know, man. Things got so bad we ended up at an intervention tonight.”
His response comes without hesitation. He doesn’t even have to think about it. “Absolutely not,” Eddie assures Buck. “That would never happen to us.”
“How do you know?” Buck’s voice trembles with the question, like he’s afraid whatever answer Eddie gives him won’t be sufficient evidence.
The real reason is because Buck and Eddie are best friends who love each other too much. Because for all Eddie’s faults and self-destructive tendencies and grand apology tours, he’d never let his relationship with Buck get to that point. Eddie would rather die. Buck is so tightly woven into the fabric of his life that Eddie would unravel without him.
But that’s a little too close to the truth.
“You’d never lie to me,” Eddie says lightheartedly. “You can’t hack it, so it’s a non-issue.”
The tension breaks as Buck laughs and relaxes in his seat. “Not to dig myself a deeper hole, but I did technically lie to you once and we had a pretty big blowup about it.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s not rehash it.” Eddie waves him off. “You wouldn’t lie to me again.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Buck agrees easily. “So you wouldn’t fire me?”
“Nah.” Eddie smiles, head lolling back against the seat. “I couldn’t hack it.”
Buck ducks his head and smiles at the admission. He’s beautiful at every moment, but especially like this. Eddie likes Buck rosy cheeked and shy, it’s part of taking care of him. He needs to be showered with affection. Deserves it. And one of the best parts of Eddie’s day is following through on looking after his best friend.
“Would you fire me?” Eddie follows up, because now he’s burning with desire to know. “If you were captain and I pulled something like that?”
“I would never fire you.”
“Why not?” Eddie folds his arms and quirks an eyebrow. “What about the chain of comm—”
“If you say chain of command, I will crash the car,” Buck interjects.
“Power… differences…” Eddie ventures.
They pull up to a red light, and Buck looks over with those big, soft, sincere eyes that make Eddie want to drop to one knee. “I would never fire you, and you’d never lie to me,” Buck says matter-of-factly.
Eddie hums, unable to resist a bit of light flirting. Keeping it in takes a tremendous amount of self-restraint, and it’s waning by the day. Buck makes it so easy. Or difficult. Whichever. Both. Point being, Eddie likes to flirt with Buck.
“You sound pretty sure about that,” he teases, meeting Buck’s gaze and swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Duh!” Buck responds, unknowingly endearing himself even more to Eddie. Something Eddie didn’t know was possible. “You’re my best friend,” he adds fondly.
The thing is, Eddie knows it would be okay. He knows that telling Buck he’s gay will take a weight off his shoulders, it’ll bring the two of them closer. Nothing bad is going to happen. And Buck is right. They’re best friends. He and Buck are best friends. In light of recent events, he’d do well to remember that.
Could Eddie really be that brave? Stop punishing himself? Have everything he’s ever wanted?
“Buck, you know you’re my best friend too, right?” Eddie asks softly.
“Yeah,” Buck answers brightly, rounding the corner onto his street. He’s paying attention to the road, but he’s smiling and his eyes are sparkling and…
And Eddie is in love with him.
“I don’t want to lie to you,” Eddie says.
“I know.”
Eddie takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“Buck, I’m gay.” His voice is shockingly strong and confident.
The truck lurches as Buck swerves violently, cursing under his breath when he narrowly avoids a parked car. For Eddie’s part, he’s so glad he’s wearing a seatbelt that it takes a minute to register that his coming out caused that reaction. Eddie watches Buck warily as he pulls the truck over and puts it in park. They’re only a few houses away from Buck’s, so Eddie isn’t feeling super great about what might happen next.
Eddie stares at Buck; Buck stares at the trash cans on the curb. Time stops. There’s no telling how long they sit there.
Unsure of what else to do, Eddie laughs nervously, and says, “Please don’t fire me as your best friend.”
Buck exhales, so at least he won’t need to be resuscitated. Maybe this was the wrong time to come out. So much has happened tonight, Buck doesn’t need another thing to process. Just because Eddie is so enamored that he couldn’t keep it in any longer didn’t mean Buck was in a place to hear it. He’ll do the walk of shame back to his car, and Buck can sit here in his truck for as long as he needs. They’ll regroup tomorrow. Or in a week. Or, god willing, Eddie will die from embarrassment first.
Eddie barely gets his fingers around the door handle before Buck launches himself over and puts a stop to it.
“Nope,” Buck says, shaking his head. “Don’t. Please.”
“Okay.”
Eddie puts his hands in his lap and waits. A few more seconds pass, then Buck takes a deep breath and puts the truck in drive. He doesn’t say anything when they pull into the driveway, so Eddie silently follows him through the front door and into the kitchen.
Being in Buck’s house is strange. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it, but Buck is such a fixture in Eddie’s own home that Eddie doesn’t like the thought of him settling down elsewhere.
“I would never fire you as my best friend,” Buck says seriously, like that was a genuine possibility.
“I was never afraid of that.” Eddie rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“Sorry about the reckless driving, I just didn’t expect you to say that.”
“And your whole loss of speech thing?” Eddie asks, making sure to keep his tone even.
“I was… processing,” Buck explains. “I didn’t want to blurt out something stupid and make you coming out about me.”
There is no way Buck means what Eddie wants him to mean. Buck isn’t saying he might’ve blurted out that he’s in love with Eddie and wants to live happily ever after. But if that were the case, Eddie would encourage Buck to make it about himself.
“And, hey, look,” Buck continues. “This doesn’t change a thing between us.”
Having his own words thrown back in his face hurts, even if that isn’t really what’s happening. Eddie wishes he’d known then. Looking back, he has the luxury of deciding he certainly would’ve taken the leap. If he’d known. If he’d been honest with himself.
“Sure, yeah,” he responds, taking a step back. “Thanks.” It doesn’t sound sincere at all. He hopes Buck will let it slide.
“Are you mad? I’m really sorry about the thing in the car.”
“I’m not mad, Buck.”
It’s awkward, and that’s Eddie’s fault. Again. He can’t have normal emotional responses to anything. He’s got nothing to be upset about. Buck is still his best friend and he doesn’t know Eddie is in love with him. How the hell else was he supposed to react besides pleasantly?!
“You just seem upset.” Buck puts his hands on his hips. “I’ve had enough fighting for one night.”
Eddie scoffs. “We didn’t even argue tonight. That thing at Athena’s doesn’t count.”
“Okay, fine. You’re right. Doesn’t mean I wanna argue with you now.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie sighs in exasperation. “We’re not arguing. We’re fine. I’m gay and I’m fine.”
He has no idea what compels him to tack that bit onto the end, but now he’s gone and done it. The thing about knowing Buck so well is that Eddie’s mind doesn’t need his conscious permission to get under Buck’s skin.
A little part of Eddie is hurt that Buck didn’t throw open the door for the two of them to be more than best friends. Which isn’t fair at all, Eddie knows that. But all of this is new and scary, and Eddie isn’t sure if that’s in a good way or a bad way yet. He needs Buck, in every way one could need another person, and it’s overwhelming. And Buck should just know that because he knows everything about Eddie.
Buck starts to reach out for Eddie but seems to think better of it. “What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything,” Eddie answers. He flexes his hands. His muscles are becoming antsy.
“I should’ve reacted better, I’m sorry,” Buck apologizes again. “I’m glad you told me. I’m proud of you.”
He has got to stop being so nice when Eddie’s being unreasonable. Buck doesn’t owe Eddie any romance, and this is Eddie’s own fault for standing in front of Buck and not saying he’s in love with him. The words are stuck in his throat, and Buck is far too forgiving in the wake of Eddie’s cowardice.
“We’re fine, Buck. Stop apologizing.” Eddie takes a deep breath. “Look, I should go,” he says quickly, then heads for the door.
Buck’s voice follows him. “I’m not a mind reader, you know!” There’s a little bite to the words.
“Buck,” Eddie warns, stopping in the entryway.
“Why tonight?” he asks, grabbing Eddie’s shoulder and spinning him around. Eddie goes willingly, because the touch isn’t forceful. It’s gentle. Buck is unable to be anything else.
Eddie doesn’t answer, he lets Buck rail on.
“We just sat through two of our close friends going through something horrible that strained their friendship because of secrets and hurt feelings, and you decide tonight is the night to pick a fight with me?”
There’s hurt layered in his question. Guilt immediately strains between Eddie’s shoulder blades.
“What do you think I’m hiding from you?”
If Buck says it, everything will be easier. If he says Eddie is in love with him, it can be true.
“I don’t know, Eddie. You won’t tell me.”
Buck is standing far too close. His gaze bores right through to Eddie’s soul, fixing him to the spot.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Eddie huffs impatiently. It’s his worst lie yet.
“Fine,” Buck relents. “Have it your way. At least I finally understand the chain of command.”
Flames spark in Eddie’s eyes. Buck always does this. He needles Eddie with a precision no one else can, and Eddie falls for it every fucking time.
“I swear to god,” Eddie threatens, vague and harsh but empty.
Buck challenges him on it. “What? Go ahead, Eddie. Do something about it.”
Eddie grabs Buck by the hips and backs him up to the nearest wall. He’s pissed off but present enough to register the quiet gasp of surprise that passes over Buck’s lips. Indulgently, Eddie squeezes Buck’s body where his hands are gripping tightly, the both of them breathing heavily. Buck’s eyes travel to Eddie’s lips and back, confirmation enough for what’s about to happen.
He leans forward, pausing only an inch from Buck’s lips. Eddie doesn’t want it like this. Their first kiss shouldn’t be borne from frustration and heated conversation. It needs tenderness and warmth.
“Buck?” Eddie whispers, not daring to recite any other prayers.
“Yes,” Buck answers.
Slowly, Eddie’s hands travel up and under Buck’s sweater until they settle low on his waist. Buck’s skin is searing hot, something Eddie hadn’t expected from a man who runs cold. He’s soft despite being toned, and he must be ticklish, because he twitches slightly when Eddie’s thumbs begin tracing circles over his stomach.
The knowledge that there are still new things to learn about Buck sends a thrill shooting down Eddie’s spine.
A shaky hand comes up to touch Eddie’s cheek; it’s the last bit of permission he needs. Such a sweet, simple gesture cracks the dam open. Eddie closes the small gap between them and presses their lips together, finally kissing his best friend.
Eddie leans back a fraction of an inch, the separation pulling some pained, pathetic noise from his throat. He needs more. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold himself back. Less than a minute, he’s certain of it. So if Buck is going to shatter Eddie a million pieces, he’d better do it in the next sixty seconds.
Tentatively, like Eddie hasn’t just thrown him up against the wall and kissed him, Buck’s other arm wraps around Eddie’s waist. Their bodies are pressed flush together now. He can feel Buck’s heart beating wildly in his chest.
Buck’s thumb traces a line over Eddie’s bottom lip. A silent question Eddie knows the answer to.
The arbitrary line in the sand has been crossed, and Eddie happily stumbles over it and into the ocean. He wants to drown in the way Buck tastes like safety and home.
They don’t stop at two or three kisses. Somehow, both of Eddie’s hands end up cradling Buck’s face while keeping Buck pinned to the wall with his hips. Buck’s hands have both snuck under Eddie’s shirt, seemingly intent on memorizing the curve of his spine, the shape of his waist, the cut of his abs. Eddie has never been touched with such heated reverence before, so he returns the favor by kissing Buck harder, deeper, trying to offer something he knows for damn sure Buck’s never been given.
When they finally break apart, breathing labored and vision blurry, Eddie’s soul comes back into his body.
Eddie isn’t one for cliches and cosmic plans, but he feels something shift. The earth beneath his feet, maybe. Or perhaps the negligible difference in altitude between Buck’s house and his own makes the air thinner in this part of town.
If Eddie thought he was in love with Buck before, he’s overwhelmed with it now. He can feel every cell in his body vibrating with it. The finality with which Eddie realizes he’s been ruined for anyone else is staggering. It’s terrifying.
He takes a step back, removing himself from Buck completely. For a moment, he thinks Buck might chase him, but he doesn’t. Eddie sees his own fear mirrored in Buck’s eyes. The reality of this, of them, is too much.
“You’re my best friend,” Eddie says, and it hits his ears like a desperate plea.
“And you’re my best friend,” Buck reassures Eddie, and maybe himself a little bit too. “I can’t lose you, Eddie.”
Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. “No, me neither.”
They do love each other too much. Frighteningly so. If Eddie feels dizzy and out of breath from a few minutes of kissing, there’s no telling what a life together would do to him. It’s probably more than he can handle. Existing in the liminal space between friends and lovers is much more comfortable than whatever the hell Eddie just glimpsed.
Buck doesn’t meet Eddie’s eye when he says, “We should probably just forget this happened, right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. But his heart is still pounding out of his chest, and he can’t quite get his breathing under control. His fingertips burn with the memory of how Buck’s skin feels, his palms ache with the knowledge that they’re perfectly shaped to hold Buck’s cheeks. But that scares the shit out of him, so he says, “Like you said, nothing changes between us.”
“Yeah, uh…” Buck hesitates, indecision written all over his face. “Yeah. Nothing changes.”
“Work would be awkward anyway,” Eddie reasons.
Buck is too quick to agree. “Why mess with a good thing!”
“And we’d have to tell everyone,” Eddie continues, for god knows what reason. “We don’t wanna have a q and a with the team.”
“Definitely. That’s more stress when so many other things are going on.”
“Great.”
“Cool.”
Eddie swings his arms together awkwardly a couple times. That’s that. They tried. He’s never collapsed under the weight of his daydreams alone, so why tempt fate?
“I should probably…” Eddie motions towards the door.
“Sure, yeah. See you tomorrow.”
Except that Eddie doesn’t believe in fate.
He leaves Buck’s house and gets in his car, speed-walking in case the past thirty minutes are following him. The first thing he does after turning the car on is make sure the radio is loud enough to drown out the mere possibility of a thought. The drive home from Buck’s is a measly fifteen minutes, Eddie doesn’t need to think beyond basic road safety.
Unfortunately, his phone autoconnects to the bluetooth in his car, and the last thing he’d been listening to was an album Buck recommended. While it’s better than silence, he needs a secondary distraction. Come to think of it, he’s never noticed how cool stop signs look! And pedestrian crossings! Someone should commend Public Works on their community contributions. It works for most of the drive, but Eddie does have to pivot from that line of thought because he has heard Buck’s deep dive on the reasoning behind the shapes and colors of specific signage.
Eddie pulls into his own driveway and turns off the engine. There isn’t a single part of his life that Buck hasn’t touched. He can’t even look at a fucking yield sign without hearing Buck’s “did you know” in his head.
“Shit,” he mutters, banging his hand against the steering wheel.
As long as he lives, Eddie will never be able to forget the warmth of Buck’s skin or how his lips taste like home. He will forever be burdened with the knowledge that Buck fingers have traced the lines of Eddie’s body like he’s something to be revered.
He cannot lose Buck. The very notion is unfathomable. It’s bad enough when they fight and was worse when Eddie had moved back to Texas. If tonight has taught Eddie anything, it’s that he can never let their relationship dilute to the point that other people feel like they need to intervene. Never taking a risk is the easiest way to guarantee that. The safe, comfortable option. Eddie never carves open his chest, Buck never stitches him back together, and they both bury those few minutes of passion until they become nothing more than distant memory. No harm, no foul. No risk.
But Eddie wants, and not only because of tonight. He knew he was in love with Buck long before he realized and accepted that he was gay. It sounds complex, but it isn’t, at least to Eddie. Loving Buck is part of his DNA, whatever form that love may take. That always made sense.
Everything Eddie wanted was in the palm of his hand. Literally. Buck had kissed him back, held him close. And Eddie ran scared at the enormity of his own feelings.
He takes a deep breath as he gets out of the car and hustles into the house. With any luck, Chris will still be out with his friends. Right now, Eddie doesn’t even care that he’d be breaking curfew. In fact, Eddie welcomes it.
“Chris?” he calls, walking into the entryway. No answer. “Christopher?” he tries again, walking down the hall. The house is empty.
Call it bad parenting, but Eddie lets out a sigh of relief. He does shoot off a text, to which his son promptly replies with an apology, about fifty exclamation points, and the promise to be home in thirty minutes or less (get it? like pizza? plz don’t ground me).
Knock, knock, knock.
Now what? Eddie scrubs a hand down his face. He wants so badly to be left alone right now. Begrudgingly, he trudges towards the entryway.
Before Eddie can get the door open, Buck comes bounding through it.
“Sorry, I knocked as a formality, this can’t wait,” Buck says hastily.
“Okay?” Eddie responds, bemused.
“I have a better solution for us.”
This seems like it could have waited. Better yet, Buck could’ve kept this one to himself. Eddie doesn’t need another excuse, the ones he’s made hurt enough as it is.
“Buck, I don’t—”
“Just hear me out,” Buck interjects. “Please?”
Someday, Eddie will learn how to say no. For now, he motions for Buck to continue speaking.
“What if we ignore everything we said earlier and kiss again?”
Risk with Buck never is all that dangerous. He takes such good care of Eddie, no matter the situation.
“Thank god,” Eddie breathes, then slams into Buck. He holds Buck’s waist with one hand and cradles the back of Buck’s head with the other.
Kissing Buck moves directly to the top of Eddie’s favorite activities. It’s lighter this time—slow and giggly with flushed cheeks. Buck pulls him in so they’re chest to chest, and if he wasn’t so preoccupied, Eddie would crawl beneath Buck’s ribcage and live there forever.
“I have to tell you something,” Eddie mumbles into their increasingly heated makeout.
“Let me guess…” Buck spins them around and pins Eddie against the front door. “You’re in love with me.”
Eddie gapes, blinking owlishly. “How…?”
“No one’s ever kissed me like that before,” Buck admits sheepishly. “I kinda thought maybe that’s what it was supposed to feel like.”
“I do love you.” Eddie grabs desperately at Buck's sweater like he hadn’t followed Eddie home just to kiss him again. “It scares the hell out of me how much. This probably wasn’t the right time or way to do it, but everything is so messed up right now, and you’re my best friend—”
Thankfully, Buck interrupts his rambling. “Eddie, it’s okay,” he says gently. “You don’t know how much of my reality was being held together by the idea that you were straight.”
That piques Eddie’s interest. “Say more about that right now.”
“If you were straight, I couldn’t be in love with you,” Buck explains.
“And that’s why you almost got into an accident with a parked car?” Eddie asks incredulously.
“Yeah but, Eddie, come on. Can you imagine being in love with you and never having a shot?”
“Yeah.” Eddie nods, eyes fixed on Buck’s. “I think I have an idea.”
Buck beams, and Eddie thinks he’s never been more beautiful.
“I didn’t really say it, and I want to,” Buck begins, dropping his voice low. “I do love you.”
A wry smile creeps over Eddie’s face. “How much?” he asks, kissing Buck again.
“Oh, more than you’re prepared to handle,” Buck teases.
Years ago, mid-twenties and new to LA, Eddie never would’ve guessed that the guy at the firehouse who was determined to give him a hard time would be this. A best friend, a lover, a soulmate. Denying himself joy seems so absurd when joy has been right in front of Eddie this entire time.
“Buck, I don’t know how to be this,” Eddie hears himself say. He’s deliriously happy to have Buck in his arms and on his lips, but that’s only quieted his fear, not quelled it. “I don’t know how to be gay, and I wanted to talk to you about it, but,” Eddie motions between them, “you know.”
“So we’ll talk,” Buck says simply. “We’re good at that.” Eddie tosses him an unimpressed look, so he laughs softly and amends, “We’ll be better at it. You don’t lie to me, I don’t lie to you. Right?”
“Right.” Eddie relaxes, shoulders releasing tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”
Buck tilts his head to the side in curiosity.
On one hand, it isn’t that serious. On the other hand, it’s the crux of everything. Eddie didn’t lie earlier, but he needs to say this now so Buck understands how much weight their relationship holds, no matter what form it takes.
“You are my best friend.” Eddie emphasizes his point in case everything up until this point hasn’t made that clear. “But if you hid some mystery illness from me and put everyone at risk, put yourself at risk, I would fire you.”
As expected, Buck frowns and stands up straight, no longer looming over Eddie, who is still slouched back against the door. The difference in proximity is only a few inches, but it feels like an ocean.
“Earlier you said you wouldn’t,” Buck says, bristling.
When it comes down to it, Eddie can’t say for certain that he’d be able to go through with firing Buck in the moment. But this is his truth, and there’s nothing holding Eddie back from being honest when he’s got nothing to hide anymore. Buck knows Eddie is in love with him, and the world keeps on spinning.
“I would rather you hate me and be safe than lose you.”
Buck immediately softens, hauling Eddie into a tight hug. “You won’t lose me,” he whispers. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He pulls back just enough to kiss Buck again, something he’ll never get enough of.
“Do you wanna talk more about it?”
Eddie lets out a long exhale. “Yeah, but not now. It’s been such a long night.”
“We could… not talk,” Buck suggests, walking the two of them towards the couch.
“As long as you keep it PG, Buckley,” Eddie replies. He’s unable to stop an impossibly wide smile from forming on his lips as he lets Buck lay him down on the couch and climb on top of him. “Chris will be home soon.”
“Despite what you may think, I do have self-control.”
“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, rolling his eyes just to get Buck riled up.
“I do!” Buck huffs. “Think about last week when—“
“Buck, I love bickering with you, but right now you should use some of that self-control to kiss me instead.”
“Chain of command,” Buck says, throwing him a teasing salute. “Yes, sir. Eddie, sir.”
Eddie laughs against Buck’s lips, joyful and in love. Everything isn’t magically fixed, life is still scary and uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, Eddie feels like he’ll be okay.