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This living with your best friend thing is going well, if Eddie could brag for a moment. He’d heard people warn against it — that spending too much time together, seeing the worst of each other, could ruin a friendship. He’s sure that’s true for some people, but he and Buck aren’t some people; they’re Buck and Eddie. They work 24-hour shifts together and have cursed each other’s bloodlines mid-physical therapy countless times. Bickering about laundry and dishes is a piece of cake, in comparison.
They’re only a few months into it, but it’s going well, he would say. He thinks Buck would agree.
Well, except for fucking Lester.
“Oh! That reminds me,” Buck says from where he’s sitting across from Eddie in the engine. “Lester left flour all over the kitchen counter this morning.”
“Fucking Lester,” Eddie sighs. “Of course he did.”
Ravi sighs dramatically beside him.
“I don’t even know what he was doing. Half of it was sticky?”
“I think he and Chris were trying to make scones. I’ll tell them to clean up after themselves next time.”
“Without me?” Buck pouts.
“They were probably trying to surprise you. They probably should’ve known better, because they turned out like rocks.”
And they really had. If Chris had chipped a tooth on the things, he would be sending the bill straight to Lester.
“Huh,” Buck hums. “That’s nice of them.”
“You know Lester,” Eddie shrugs. “Good guy.”
It’s going really well, actually. So well that Eddie is having a bit of a crisis about how well it’s going, and how much he enjoys having Buck around all the time. He really, really likes it. He likes waking up and knowing Buck is going to be in the kitchen, pottering around and chatting with Chris.
It would be almost perfect, if not for Lester.
Eddie stares at the fridge door, where there’s an oat milk carton-sized space beside the orange juice.
“Buck?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know where the oat milk is?”
The sound of Buck’s knife against the cutting board silences.
“Oh. I think Lester might have used it all and forgotten to buy more.”
Eddie sighs. He grabs the orange juice instead. They’ll have to stop for coffee on the way to work. “That guy is a real pain in my ass.”
“I know,” Buck agrees, the chop chop chop of his knife on the cutting board returning. “I’ll have a word with him. It’s just impolite.”
And here’s the thing: Lester is a good guy. He has good intentions, and he tries hard, but he has many, many flaws.
Not least that he has the memory of a goldfish. It’s endearing, really, if you look at it the right way. It also, unfortunately, means that everyone in the house has to reap the consequences.
Buck blinks at him. It’s late. It’s so late. They’re both exhausted, and Christopher is already fast asleep.
“Say that again?” Buck requests slowly.
“Lester,” Eddie repeats, clearing his throat. “Forgot about the bake sale. That is tomorrow morning. He signed us up for lemon bars.”
Buck blinks. “Why would Lester sign up for lemon bars when Lester doesn’t know how to make lemon bars?”
Eddie winces. “I think Lester maybe asked Chris, and Chris requested the lemon bars?”
Buck, predictably, softens at that. “Okay,” he sighs. “Can you text Lester and ask him to pick up lemons on the way home, then? I’ll get started on the base. And tell him he’s lucky that Chris is my favorite.”
“I think he definitely knows that, but I will tell him. And lemons. Got it.”
Buck, who is so tired and so beautiful even when he’s tired, sighs, and starts pulling flour and sugar from the baking cupboard. “Lots of lemons,” he adds. “Tell Lester we need lots of lemons.”
It doesn’t happen very often, but occasionally, Lester makes them late for work.
Any hope that Bobby won’t notice just how late they are quickly dwindles as they walk through the station doors and directly into a station-wide meeting.
Every single head turns to look at them. Bobby raises his brows.
“Uh, sorry, Cap,” Eddie offers, clearing his throat. “Lester said he’d put our laundry in the dryer, but he got distracted, so all our clothes were wet this morning.”
Buck nods solemnly. “He really fucked it.”
Bobby looks between them and sighs. “I don’t even want to know.”
Eddie knows he’s being weird. He is well aware that he’s being weird, there’s just nothing he can do about it right now.
He’s also aware that Buck is aware that he’s being weird. Again, unfortunately, it’s out of Eddie’s hands.
He’s trying not to be weird, but he’s nervous, so he’s being weird.
“You okay?” Buck relents, after forty minutes of concerned side-eye. They’re sitting on the couch, watching a movie, and Eddie is being weird.
“Yeah,” Eddie says far too quickly. “Yeah. I just - - there’s something I need to tell Lester.”
“Okay,” Buck says, reaching for the remote and turning down the volume. He twists his whole body toward Eddie. “He’s pretty good with constructive criticism. Kind of his whole thing.”
“Right,” Eddie nods. “I guess it’s just that it’s not really that. It’s more like… information. That he should have.”
“Well, you should probably tell him, then,” Buck suggests.
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Do you think I just… rip the bandaid off? Just tell him?”
Buck shifts a little. “You’re making it sound kind of serious. Is he in trouble?”
“No,” Eddie insists. He can do this. Lester isn’t even here. He’s just telling his best friend Buck something about their good friend Lester. “No - - he’s… I’m going to ask him out, I think. On a date.”
“Oh,” Buck breathes. He sways back a little like he’s been hit by the force of the confession. He swallows. “Like… a romantic one?”
“That’s the one,” he confirms. “I’m just not sure how to…bring it up?”
Buck nods, dumbstruck. “You - - you’d want to date him? Like - - like go on a date with him?”
“Lots of them, ideally, yes. You think he’d be interested?”
“Yes,” Buck says quickly. “I do, uh, think that.”
Oh, thank fuck.
“Ok, cool,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll tell him, then. Thanks.”
Buck nods. He looks a bit like he’s just walked into a brick wall. “Sure. Yeah. Sure. Anytime.”
Eddie smiles. He reaches for the remote and turns the volume back up. “Appreciate ya, bud.”
Buck just nods some more, turning back to stare at the TV, bewildered.
It takes longer than Eddie expected for him to crack.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“You mean you want to date me, right?”
Eddie chuckles. “As opposed to our fake roommate we blame all our faux pas on? Yes. Yes, I’m talking about you.”
A slow grin spreads over Buck’s face. “Cool. That’s - - cool.”
Eddie grins back. “Oh, also, Lester may have accidentally used the last of your expensive shampoo.”
“That’s fine,” Buck insists, even though last time Lester did that, Buck threatened to install CCTV pointed directly at the shampoo bottles.
Huh. Seems like maybe now could be a good time for some additional confessions.
“Uh, he also did break your favorite mug last month, but it was an accident. I don’t know why he lied and said it was missing. He was trying to do latte art.”
Buck softens. “He was?”
Eddie nods. “He was really bad at it.”
“I love latte art.”
“Yeah,” Eddie smiles. “I know. I mean - - he knows.”
“Well, I don’t mind about the mug. I saw it in the trash.”
“Oh,” Eddie blinks. That’s embarrassing. “Well, he’ll buy you a new one.”
“Maybe we can…” Buck starts, blushing. “Maybe we could go together? Find one at the flea market? Like - - like a date?”
Eddie smiles. His heart somersaults in his chest. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“And while we’re there, Lester can buy you a new rug because he did spill red wine on yours and he did cover it with the houseplant.”
Eddie blinks at the newest addition to his living room, an admittedly oddly-placed plant which Buck had insisted he’d bought because the room was “lacking feng shui.”
But he’s on top of the world right now. He truly couldn’t care less.
“Classic Lester,” Eddie shrugs. “We’ll pick a new one together.”
Buck ducks his head, smiling. “Nice,” he breathes. “Yeah. Together.”
Eddie chuckles, and Buck smiles back, and now they’re just grinning at each other like idiots.
“Uh,” Eddie breathes. “I was thinking of going to bed, probably,” he says. “If you were…tired. Also.”
Buck nods urgently. “Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the remote and turning off the TV. “Yes, I’m so tired.”
Eddie bites down on a smile, pushing up off the couch and reaching out a hand to Buck. He takes it, and Eddie feels warm all over. He pulls Buck up until they’re chest to chest.
“Oh,” Buck breathes. “Hi.”
Eddie chuckles. “Hi.”
Buck swallows. “Gonna - - bed?” He stutters.
Eddie nods. Neither of them moves. Eddie wants to kiss him. He wants to, and he’s going to. He’s just gonna lean in and do it. He’s right there. He could do it right now. He could kiss Buck, his best friend, who is a man. He could do that. And he wants to. And he will.
He’s going to do it.
He will.
He blinks.
He swallows.
He’s going to do it. He’s going to - -
He opens his mouth to tell Buck that he’s going to do it, he’s going to kiss him, but instead, what comes out is:
“Okie-dokie. Nighty-night!”
Oh. Eddie wants to die.
He turns immediately, before he has to watch Buck react to that, and heads for the bedroom. Before he can take more than a single step, Buck’s hand grabs his wrist and pulls him back.
Eddie sighs and turns to face the humiliation ritual he’s created for himself.
Buck is grinning. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says.
Eddie just nods. Thank fuck.
Buck kisses him.
He kisses him good.
So good.
He kisses him so good that he doesn’t even realize they’re walking backwards, aiming for the nearest wall, until he stomps his bare foot down onto something sharp.
“Ow, fuck!” Eddie swears.
They both look down to find a screw, pointy side up, in the middle of the floor.
Buck, who had insisted on finally hanging up the artwork he’d brought with him earlier that day, winces.
“...Lester?” Buck suggests.
Eddie nods. “Fucking Lester,” he says against Buck’s mouth as he pulls him back in.