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As soon as they shrug off their turnouts and clock out of their shift, Eddie begins to make his way to the locker room. Buck storms after him, hot on his heels.

“What the hell was that?” Buck demands.

“What was what?” Eddie asks nonchalantly. He doesn’t even bother to glance up as he spins the dial on his locker. 

Buck sidesteps into Eddie’s line of sight so that he cannot feasibly be ignored. He refuses to let Eddie dismiss this.

“No, c’mon, don’t play dumb with me, Eddie. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t, Buck.”

That’s bullshit, and they both know it.

Buck stares at him. He’s not entirely sure what Eddie’s angle is here. He doesn’t know why his best friend is trying to gaslight him into believing this isn’t a big deal. 

They’ve just gotten back from a call where Eddie ran straight into a burning house against Chim’s orders. There was a middle aged man trapped on the second floor, and their entry had been blocked before they had the chance to get to him. Buck and Ravi were still repositioning the ladder, trying to find a safe way to approach it, when Eddie took matters into his own hands. 

He was supposed to be treating the guy’s wife for smoke inhalation, but instead, Eddie decided to scale the side of the house like both gravity and common sense were optional. 

Then—to really top it all off—when Ravi took longer than Eddie deemed reasonable to retrieve the SAC, he talked the man he was rescuing into helping him haul a mattress out of the bedroom, shove it over the balcony and jump after it.

Eddie’s run into burning buildings before. They all have. It’s the job. But the job also comes with training, strategy, and the understanding that heroics don’t mean a damn thing if no one makes it out alive. 

Lately, though, Eddie’s been approaching their emergencies less like a firefighter and more like the lead hero in an action movie. He just charges ahead like there’s a stunt double waiting off-camera to take the hit for him.

And, sure, he and the guy both survived. But that’s beside the point. Who knows what kind of crazy stunt he’s going to try and pull during their next shift? 

He might not be so lucky next time. 

“You didn’t have to go back in there,” Buck says. “Chim told you not to.”

Eddie scoffs. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I dunno, Buck,” he says sarcastically as he aggressively shoves his clothes into his gym bag. “Can you think of anyone who runs without a second thought into burning buildings? Someone who regularly defies their captain’s orders when it suits them?” He doesn’t give Buck a chance to answer his rhetorical question before slamming the locker shut. “I was doing my job. Our job. I thought you of all people would get that.”

“There’s a safer way to do the job,” Buck stresses.

“Right. Says the guy who once ignored orders to evacuate and then took his mask off to chase after a stray dog,” Eddie retorts bluntly.

“Wha - - Hey - - That was - - Okay, that was totally different,” Buck protests.

“Really?” Eddie folds his arms across his chest in a rigid and challenging stance. “How?”

“Ravi and I had this covered,” Buck insists. “We would have gotten to the guy with a little more time.”

“He didn’t have time,” Eddie argues, turning his back on Buck now to avoid looking him in the eye.

“That wasn’t your call. Or your job,” Buck reminds him. Then, bitter and louder than he means to be, he adds, “I hope Hen has your back better than you have hers.”

Now that catches Eddie’s attention.

“What has Hen got to do with this?” He turns back on Buck sharply. “This is about you and me.”

“No, it’s not. Not anymore.” 

The words are heavy with something close to self-pity. They aren’t partners now. Haven’t been for a while. And Buck is tired of pretending otherwise.

“You’re a medic now,” he continues. “You’re supposed to be treating patients. On the ground.”

“I’m still a firefighter,” Eddie says adamantly. “That hasn’t changed.”

“But you have,” Buck counters. “You used to be the one who talked sense into me. You were the guy who made me think twice. But since you got back from Texas, you’re the one being stupid and reckless. Running into fires against orders, diving off fifty foot bridges- -”

“You know, you’re such a hypocrite,” Eddie steps forward, jabbing an accusatory finger into Buck’s chest. “You would have done exactly the same thing if I hadn’t done it first.”

Eddie’s sort of got him there. Buck had admitted as much to Chim while they peered over the edge of the bridge and watched Eddie heroically swim towards Tripp and the whale. Chim had even thrown it back in Buck’s face when he was reprimanding Eddie for it. 

That was stupid and reckless. Like Buck.

It had sort of been an unnecessary drive by, actually.

But, true or not, conceding to Eddie now is certainly not going to get Buck anywhere in this conversation. 

Besides, it’s not that specific incident he’s worried about. Admittedly, that was actually a pretty impressive stunt Eddie pulled. 

It’s more so the principle of the thing—the pattern he’s seeing emerging in his best friend. It’s behavior frighteningly reminiscent of Buck 1.0, who didn’t feel like he had anything to live for, and who kept adopting the role of sacrificial pawn anytime his team needed one.

“Maybe a few years ago, yeah,” he half-lies. “But Bobby taught me- -”

“Do not bring Bobby into this,” Eddie snarls.

“Why not?” Buck shoots back. “You’re the one who was upset that I wouldn’t talk about him. Now you’re saying I’m not even allowed to mention him? Who’s the hypocrite now, Eddie?”

“You don’t wanna go there, Buckley,” Eddie warns through gritted teeth. His voice is a low growl, like he’s issuing a threat.

“Yes, I do,” Buck insists. He’s not going to let this go anymore. Eddie can hate him for it as much as he wants, but Buck’s not going to stop until he can get to the root of the problem. Until he is assured, unequivocally, that Eddie is okay. “I want to know why you’re acting like this."

“Like what? Like you?”

“Like the old me,” Buck says. “The one who didn’t have anything or anyone outside of the job.”

He neglects to add the honest ending to that statement: to live for. 

Eddie scoffs again. “Give me a break, the old you. Blaze was less than a year ago.”

“Yeah, when you were leaving me to go to Texas!”

Eddie staggers backwards, like Buck’s words cause a physical blow. His brows pinch together in an expression Buck has seen before, but has never quite been able to decode.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Chim’s voice suddenly booms across the locker room. He claps his hands once, sharp and final. “Much to the disappointment of your audience, I’m putting an end to this little show.”

Buck lets out a long breath and finally looks away from Eddie. Through the glass wall, he sees the entire A and B shift gathered outside, lingering like an audience waiting for an encore.

Hen and Ravi stand closest, concern written all over their faces as they watch their respective partners verbally dismantle each other.

“Buckley, pack up and go home. Diaz, my office,” Chim orders.

Eddie drags a tired hand down his face but begrudgingly complies. Before he turns away, he at least has the decency to meet Buck’s eyes.

He doesn’t say anything.

Maybe because Chim and everyone else is listening. Maybe because there’s nothing left to say. And if there is something, Buck has no idea what it could possibly be.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Chimney ordered Buck to go home, he probably didn’t mean his home. He was almost certainly hoping for a blessed reprieve from hearing about Buck and Eddie’s issues—especially after their disruptive performance in the locker room. 

Unfortunately for Chim, Buck has a lot to process, which means he needs to debrief immediately. And the best person for that just so happens to live in the same house as his eternally suffering captain.

So no more than twenty minutes after he leaves the station, Buck knocks on the front door of the Han household. Maddie opens it a moment later, balancing Baby Nash on her hip and clutching her phone in the hand that didn’t open the door.

His sister looks uncharacteristically displeased at his presence.

“Why did I just get a text from my husband saying that he’s going to be home late because he’s dealing with quote unquote - - Buck and Eddie drama?” she asks.

“Actually,” Buck exhales deeply, “that’s what I’m here to talk about.”

Maddie softens immediately, offering him an almost pitying smile. She can always tell when he’s hurting.  

“Come on in,” she says, stepping aside.

“Great. Thanks.”

Buck immediately reaches for his nephew, lifts him out of Maddie’s arms, and walks straight past her. After a few seconds, Maddie blinks, then seems to realize he has no intention of stopping.

“Uh,” she says, turning to follow him, “where are you going with my baby?” 

“To talk!” Buck calls back over his shoulder. He doesn’t bother shutting the door to the nursery behind him, very aware that she’s only a few paces behind. 

“You can also do that with me, you know,” Maddie offers, hovering in the doorway as Buck drops into the chair in the corner and starts bouncing Nash on his knee. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

“So is this little guy.” Buck presses an affectionate smooch to his nephew’s forehead, then peers over it at his sister. “And he’s way less judgmental.”

“Ah, but he can’t give you advice,” Maddie counters, already lowering herself in front of him with a small smile. “That’s a skill reserved for big sisters. And people who know how to talk.”

“That’s a good point,” Buck acknowledges thoughtfully. Then, hopefully: “Is Jee home?”

“Buck,” Maddie says, soberingly serious. “What’s going on with you and Eddie?”

Buck exhales, long and heavy. Like a man surrendering to the inevitable. “We had a fight,” he admits.

Maddie purses her lips in thought. “You two seem to be doing that a lot lately.”

“What? No we haven’t,” Buck says. He feels very protective of his relationship with Eddie. He doesn’t even really think before instinct kicks in and directs him to defend it. “Eddie and I are good. Mostly.”

Maybe they aren’t perfect. Maybe it isn’t as easy between them as it used to be. But nothing is easy these days.

“Okay. Then where is all this tension between you coming from?” Maddie asks. 

She says it like she already knows the answer to the question and is just waiting for Buck to catch up. He would probably be more annoyed by her therapist-adjacent tactics if he didn’t already have the answer worked out. 

“I think it’s just been hard since Bobby died,” Buck says. “Everything still feels off-balance, y’know?”

“Maybe.” Maddie nods slowly. Buck can practically see the gears turning as she weighs her next words. “But there was tension before that.”

Buck frowns. “You mean when he was in Texas?” 

Maddie shakes her head. “No… It was definitely tense before that too.”

“Look, I know I could’ve reacted better to him leaving, and that the thing between us was messy and hard for a little bit.” Maddie’s eyebrows shoot up at that, for reasons Buck doesn’t understand. “But we were solid when he was in Texas. We texted and FaceTimed every day. He asked me for my advice on how to deal with Chris. We might’ve been eight hundred miles apart, and yeah, it - - it sucked - - but we were good.”

“Okay, well, the thing between you,” Maddie stresses pointedly, “has always been messy. And I think it’s been tense for longer than you realize.”

“Well how long do you think, exactly?”

“Eight years, give or take,” she says matter of factly. “But if I had to pinpoint a specific moment? I’d say it probably started somewhere around the time you broke his ankle.”

“Okay, I didn’t break his ankle,” Buck protests immediately. “It was a minor sprain.”

“Which happened because you turned into a fourteen year old girl when he started hanging out with another guy,” Maddie points out.

“I know it wasn’t my finest moment, but I just- -” Buck exhales. “I didn’t understand my feelings yet. I didn’t even know at the time that the whole reason I went sort of crazy-jealous was because I wanted him to be- - you know. My guy.”

“Hm,” Maddie hums thoughtfully. “Which guy are we talking about again?”

“Okay, Maddie, stop it,” Buck says firmly. His breathing is suddenly heavier than it was a few seconds ago. “I see where you’re going with this and just - - just don’t. Please.”

But Maddie isn’t so willing to drop it this time. “Haven’t you ever thought,” she presses gently, “that maybe all of that tension between the two of you exists because there are things you refuse to talk about?”

Buck stiffens.

“Or even acknowledge?” she adds.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Buck insists too quickly. Like if he says it fast enough, it’ll stay true.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so, what did he say when you told him about Tommy?” Maddie asks casually.

Buck frowns. “What about Tommy?”

“About what happened between the two of you,” she clarifies. “While Eddie was in Texas.”

“Why would I tell Eddie about that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Maddie challenges.

Buck rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t need to hear about my sex life, Maddie.”

“Yeah, neither does your sister, for the record,” Maddie says, eyebrows raised pointedly. “But you told me about Tommy. So why can’t you tell your best friend?”

Buck sighs. “Because if I tell Eddie that I hooked up with Tommy then I have to tell him why, and then he’ll ask me what happened after and I’ll either have to lie or tell him that my ex thinks that I have feelings for him. There is no good outcome to any of that, so what’s the point?”

“The point is that if there weren’t any truth to it, telling Eddie wouldn’t be an issue,” Maddie explains. “Hiding it from him just means that there’s something to be hidden.”

“There’s nothing to be hidden,” Buck insists, sounding rather like a broken record.

“Okay, so tell him that,” Maddie says. Buck can tell she’s indulging him rather than believing him. 

“But then it’ll just be weird that I waited this long,” he reasons reasonably like a very reasonable person.

“I wouldn’t say weird, so much as suspicious.”

“See!”

Maddie raises her hands in surrender. “I’m just being honest! Which is what you should be with Eddie. All these secrets and lies are just contributing to the existing tension.”

“The existing tension?”

Maddie grins. “The sexual kind.”

“Okay- -”

“There’s a really good way to relieve that kind of tension, you know,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I am not talking about this with my big sister,” Buck whispers, covering Baby Nash’s ears. 

“So let me get this straight. Or - - you know. I have to hear about you and Tommy but I can’t suggest that you and Eddie- -”

“No, you cannot,” Buck interjects firmly. “Because you’re my sister and that’s gross. And Eddie is my straight best friend.”

“Alright,” Maddie says gently, exhaling as she gathers her thoughts. “I feel like we’re going in circles here. If he’s really only your best friend, then help me understand - - what’s the harm in just telling him about what happened with Tommy?”

“I don’t know!” Buck bursts, feeling flustered under Maddie’s tender scrutiny. “I just - - What if it makes him uncomfortable? Things are already so weird and distant between us at the moment. I don’t want to give him another reason to push me away.”

“Evan,” his sister says softly, reaching out to rest her hand on his knee. “You and Eddie only ever fight about one thing.” She gives a small, knowing smile. “Needing each other.”

Buck lets out a slow, defeated breath. “It’s not that simple.”

“Actually, it is,” Maddie counters. She pauses for a moment, then tilts her head and asks, “What’s the first fight the two of you ever had?”

Buck squints, racking his brain to remember. “Something about the correct lighting for a selfie?” he recalls vaguely.

Maddie opens her mouth as if about to speak, then snaps it shut, shaking her head. “I’m not gonna ask,” she decides. “When was your first real fight?”

“Uh, the lawsuit, I guess,” Buck says after a beat.

“And why was Eddie mad at you for that?”

“Because he and Chris needed me and I - - Oh.”

Maddie was right. Eddie had needed Buck—after Shannon, after the tsunami—and Buck had been too wrapped up in his own mess to see it. Too busy to notice that the last thing his best friend needed was space. He needed help. He needed Buck.

Buck lets Maddie’s logic roll forward, and applies it to every argument that followed that first one. The pattern snaps into focus all at once, painfully obvious in hindsight.

Their most recent fight—one Buck can actually call a fight, not just the low-grade tension that’s been lingering between them—had been when Buck found out Eddie had taken the job in El Paso without telling him.

Buck had needed Eddie to stay. After Bobby’s funeral, he couldn’t take any more change. Any more loss.

Eddie had needed Buck to open up. To talk about Bobby. To let himself be seen.

At least, that’s what Buck had thought Eddie needed. Lately, he’s not so sure. The signals have been… mixed.

“Yeah,” Maddie says softly. “Oh.”

Her voice pulls Buck back before he can spiral through every fight they’ve ever had, but the realization stays put, heavy and undeniable.

Buck opens his mouth to ask a series of follow up questions about Maddie’s interpretation of his and Eddie’s history of tension, but he’s cut off by the front door slamming shut and Chimney calling out across the house.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“We’re in here!” Maddie calls back. Then she turns to Buck again, and quickly but earnestly adds, “You’re allowed to ask for what you need in a relationship, Buck. And if that’s each other, then I think you and Eddie just need to be honest about it.”

Buck can’t even begin to dissect what Maddie means to imply by relationship, or any of the other terrifying words she bundled into that deeply meaningful advice. He nods anyway, ignoring the ringing in his ears, the burn in his eyes, and the sound of Chimney’s dramatic sigh when he takes in the scene in the nursery.

“I thought I told you to go home,” Chim says tiredly.

“Not like I’m the first person to disobey your orders today,” Buck quips back.

“Speaking of- -” Maddie pipes up, turning to face her husband. “How’d it go with Eddie? I thought you'd be stuck at the station longer.”

“Well, paperwork’s all done, because I am an amazing Captain,” Chim says, stepping into the room and leaning down to kiss the top of Maddie’s head. “And talking to Eddie is surprisingly easy when you’re two adults having a mature and honest conversation.”

He looks pointedly at Buck when he says that, as if he’s the one at fault while Eddie is entirely innocent and blameless.

“I’m not the one running into burning buildings and then hiding his thoughts and feelings from his best friend,” Buck points out defensively.

“No, that would require you actually knowing what your feelings are,” Chim replies.

Maddie suppresses a smile while Buck frowns, offended. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“It means stop hogging my family,” Chimney says, taking Nash out of Buck’s arms. He gives Buck another pointed look. “Go home and fix yours.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Buck once again takes liberties with Chim’s orders and chooses one of many possible interpretations. This time, however, he thinks there’s a good chance that this is, in fact, exactly what Chimney meant.

He’s not sure why he knocks on the back door instead of using his key to come through the front, but Buck waits patiently for Eddie to open it for him.

Or—not so patiently. His leg is bouncing like crazy.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” is Eddie’s choice of greeting when he eventually answers Buck’s knock. 

He doesn’t look unhappy to see Buck, nor does he look quite as surprised as he claims to be. Buck supposes that’s a good thing. Right?

“Chimney told me to go home. Guess that still feels like here,” Buck admits, because despite his new objective to be more honest with Eddie, that’s as close to the truth as he’s willing to get right now. He’s not quite ready to confess that it was never the house that made it feel like home. 

He hesitates, weight rocking back on his heels. “Can I come in?”

Eddie doesn’t answer right away. He studies Buck for a second, like he’s deciding whether this is a good idea or just familiar. The space between them feels charged, stretched thin by everything they haven’t said. Whatever that is.

“You gonna yell at me again?” Eddie asks finally.

“No,” Buck promises immediately. “Scout’s honor.” 

He lifts his hand in a clumsy little salute that somehow convinces Eddie to step aside and let him in.

Buck crosses the threshold, and the air inside the Diaz house is immediately warmer. It feels strange how much weight the simple act carries—how much it feels like being allowed back into something he never really left. Eddie closes the door behind them, the click of the lock sounding louder than it should.

“You talked to Chim too?” Eddie asks, following up on Buck’s previous comment.

Buck nods, already a step deeper into the house, into whatever this is now. “Mmm. He sort of suggested that the reason you and I were fighting was because we weren’t being completely honest with each other. And I hate to say it, but - - he might have had a point.”

Eddie goes a little still, skittish in a way that makes Buck think he’s hearing an accusation where none was meant. “You think I’m not honest enough with you?”

“I think we could both make an effort to be more honest with one another,” Buck answers. 

Eddie looks wary. Nervous, almost. Maybe even like he does have something to hide. 

“I’ll start,” Buck declares before Eddie can get defensive again. “I totally lied to you before. I said I only would have done it if it were a few years ago, but I would have jumped off that bridge. And I would have run back in today, too.”

Eddie nods slowly. “You would have done the same thing if I hadn’t done it first,” he repeats his words from earlier today, but they're quieter now. More fragile.

“Yeah, I know. You made your point. I won’t - -”

“No, Buck. You don’t know,” Eddie says, big brown eyes beseeching as he makes deliberate and lingering eye contact. “You would have done the same thing if I hadn’t done it first.”

Buck waits for him to elaborate. To say anything more with his mouth rather than expecting Buck to read the pain behind his eyes.

“Okay, now I’m confused. You just said that.”

Eddie sighs. “If I don’t do the stupid, reckless thing, then you will,” he explains. “And the idea of you getting hurt - - it scares me more than just doing the dumb thing myself.”

“I - - I know that losing Bobby was a reminder of how dangerous our job is,” Buck says tentatively, unsure what landmine may or may not explode from the mention of Bobby. “But you don’t have to take responsibility for the whole team.”

Buck knows better than perhaps anyone what that feels like—physically and mentally.

He’s been taking responsibility for everyone’s grief, because that’s what Bobby asked of him with his final breaths. But physically, since Bobby died, Buck has erred on the side of caution. If anything, he’s been considerably less reckless than usual, because he doesn’t want to put the people he loves through losing anyone else. 

It’s not that he wouldn’t do those things anymore, it’s just that he hesitates now. Tries to find another way, because there should always be another way.

There was once a time when Buck would have done the opposite. He would have thrown himself in harm's way so that he didn’t have to watch anyone else he cared about get hurt. 

If a sniper took him out while he climbed a crane, then so be it. At least the rest of the team would be safe.

“I’m not doing it for the team,” Eddie replies, sending a bullet right through Buck’s theory. “I mean, I would. I would have done anything to save Bobby. And I would die for the team, you know that. Because you’d do it too.”

“Yeah, I would,” Buck agrees.

“So if I do the reckless thing first- -”

“Then I won’t do it,” Buck finishes for him as the realization hits.

“There was a second… Just a second. When Karen called to tell me about Bobby, that I thought- -” Eddie swallows, like he’s trying to hold back tears. “And losing Bobby has been - - It’s been so hard, Buck. But I don’t think I would survive if it happened to you.”

Buck knows what that feels like too. Almost losing Eddie and not being able to do anything to stop it, no matter how much he tried or wanted to.

He wouldn’t survive losing Eddie. To death or distance or the tension between them.

He needs Eddie too much.

“Maddie had another crazy theory about why we fight,” Buck says, instead of untangling the mess inside his chest left by Eddie’s confession. “She thinks that the reason you and I fight is because we need each other too much. And instead of just admitting that or asking for it, we expect the other person to understand.”

He might be paraphrasing a little, but he thinks it’s an accurate summary of the point his sister was trying to get across.

“That…” Eddie trails off, mulling over Buck’s words, “...doesn’t sound so crazy to me.”

Maddie’s voice echoes through Buck’s head, but he pushes it away to focus on Eddie. 

“It doesn’t?”

“I don’t think so,” Eddie says, taking a small step toward Buck. “And… while we’re being honest, I should probably tell you that I… appreciate you. And I do need you. A lot. A kind of scary amount, actually. More than I care to admit.”

Buck smiles at Eddie’s vulnerability. The kind he hasn’t really seen since Eddie got back from Texas.

Eddie has said these sorts of things before. He had told Buck over FaceTime that he appreciated him. He had told Buck, before he left, that Buck mattered to him. 

But it’s nice to hear it again now, after everything has changed. Good to know that Buck’s insane codependency is still reciprocated.

He’d been scared to admit it too. When Eddie was leaving, Buck had been having a hard time dealing with the concept of not having Eddie around anymore. He hadn’t handled it particularly well initially—hadn’t known how to, really. But he thinks that’s just because even he didn’t realize how hard it was going to be to help Eddie pack up and leave him behind.

But all of it just goes to show that Maddie was right. They do need each other—and they’re terrible at admitting it.

“Good,” Buck replies. “That means you have no choice but to keep me around.”

“Was planning to anyway. Because if I’m being really… really… honest…” Eddie says quietly, taking another couple of steps closer. “I don’t need you around nearly as much as I want you to be.”

Buck swallows. He’s starting to feel that other kind of tension Maddie was talking about, and he needs it to stop. Immediately.

“Eddie, that’s - -”

“Look, maybe sometimes we fight because we hide things from each other,” Eddie continues. “Or maybe it’s because we need each other, I dunno. But do you wanna hear my theory?” 

He’s so close now that Buck can see the flecks of hazel in his brown eyes. ““I think when I’m the most mad at you, it’s because more than anything, I just- -” Eddie lets out a long, heavy sigh, that sounds like it’s been sitting in his chest for months. “Miss you.”

Buck doesn’t look away. He can’t. Something in Eddie’s eyes keeps him rooted there, steadying his breathing, like if he blinks he’ll lose the moment.

The admission makes the last few months fall into place. They’d been separated by distance—first physical, then emotional. And just as they were starting to find their way back from both, Buck had widened the gap again by moving out.

They weren’t partners on the job. They weren’t living together. They weren’t being honest.

They were just best friends who missed each other.

“I - - uh,” Buck says quietly, still holding Eddie’s gaze. “I miss you too.” Eddie looks almost unconvinced, like he thinks Buck is saying it just to smooth things over, so Buck rushes on. “No, seriously. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve done because of how much I missed you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly, and Buck swears he inches a little closer again. “Okay, well, it’s not a competition, Buck.”

“Heh,” Buck lets out a small, awkward huff of a laugh. “Funny you should say that…”

Eddie tilts his head questioningly. 

“You want honesty, right?” Buck asks. Eddie nods, so Buck takes a deep breath and says, “Alright, so, when you were in El Paso, I was… kind of lonely. And so I might have, sort of… slept with Tommy again.”

Eddie suddenly shifts back, putting distance between them. He turns away, shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to process it. “Why would you- -” He stops, exhales, then looks back at Buck, almost betrayed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Oh boy. Okay. Here goes nothing. If the most important friendship Buck has ever had is ruined from this, Buck is never talking to his sister again.

(Which would kind of suck. Because then he’d lose Eddie and Chris and Maddie and Chim—and Bobby is dead so. It wouldn’t really leave Buck with many friends.)

“Because then I would have to tell you that Tommy wanted to get back together,” Buck confesses, “and that the reason it didn’t happen was because he said he thought he would have a chance now that the competition was gone.”

Eddie blinks, then points dumbly to himself. “Me?”

Buck nods, lips pressed together tightly. “Mmhm.”

There’s a beat or two as Eddie furrows his eyebrows and Buck thinks he might have broken him along with their friendship until—

“Tommy thought I was his competition?” Eddie practically scoffs at the notion. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Uh, y- - Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I said,” Buck agrees quickly, relieved that he hasn’t made Eddie uncomfortable. “Because obviously you’re- -”

“- - Going to win,” Eddie finishes at the same time that Buck says, “straight.”

Eddie and Buck just stare at each other. A beat passes. Two. Three. Then—

“Um,” Eddie clears his throat, wringing his hands together anxiously. “In the spirit of honesty, you should probably know that I’m… not.”

“The competition?” Buck asks faintly.

“Straight,” Eddie corrects. 

“Oh,” Buck says, like an idiot.

Eddie watches him for a second. “Now would be a great time for you to say something about that, bud.”

“Right - - Um.” Buck blinks. “Are you sure?”

“Wow. Way to be supportive.”

“No - - no.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - -” Buck amends poorly. “I’m an ally, Eddie, I swear.”

Eddie lifts his eyebrows. “An ally?”

“Well, yeah - - I mean - - No. Not that I’m not an ally. I am. Super committed to allyship. But I’m bi too, obviously. And you’re - - Yeah! Which is cool. Totally cool. Because this doesn’t have to change anything. And we can still - - mfph - -”

Eddie kisses him, gently and briefly. Just enough pressure to quiet Buck’s mouth and short-circuit the spiral. 

Eddie’s hand comes up, warm and steady at Buck’s jaw, thumb brushing his cheek like an anchor. The kiss barely lasts a second, but it says stop, and breathe, and I’ve got you all at once.

When Eddie pulls back, Buck just blinks at him.

“Oh,” he says, a little dazed. He swallows, recalibrating, as his eyes rove over Eddie’s face, which is still only inches from his. “Okay. Um. Why did you do that?”

“You were being stupid,” Eddie says fondly. “I thought maybe I’d be reckless. Since apparently that’s my thing now.”

“That wasn’t reckless,” Buck says, still in awe of the beautiful man standing in front of him. “It was… really brave.”

Eddie shrugs. “Figured the reward outweighed the risks. I was pretty confident in the outcome, anyway.”

“Then why didn’t you do that sooner?” Buck asks.

“Because you were yapping on about Tommy and being a very committed ally and - -”

“No, I mean - -” Buck clears his throat. “How long have you known that you were…”

“Gay?” Eddie supplies easily. Which—Oh. That’s news to Buck. “Since Texas.”

“Oh,” Buck says. Then, trying for casual and missing by a mile, “Did you meet a hot cowboy or something?”

Eddie smiles. “Nah. I had a hot cowboy waiting for me to come back home. Missed him too much to look at anyone else.”

Buck swallows. “Wow,” he says intelligently. “Okay. So, um. Just to be clear- -”

“It’s you, Buck,” Eddie says simply. “You’re the one I miss and want and need and love.”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

Buck’s not dumb enough to ask ‘are you sure?’ again, but he’s also not brave enough to say it back without verifying that it’s real.

“You said it was scary,” Buck reminds him. “Needing me.”

“I’m used to doing things on my own,” Eddie explains.

“I know,” Buck says softly. “You don’t have to, though.”

“I know,” Eddie echoes. “And I don’t want to anymore.”

Buck bites his lip hesitantly, but then just decides to bite the bullet instead. “You also said you wanted me more than you needed me,” he adds. “Is that scary for you too? Wanting me?”

Eddie thinks about it, then shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I’ve never been good at wanting things for myself.” He meets Buck’s eyes. “But now that I know that all I’ve ever wanted is right in front of me… I couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.”

“So you’re not scared?” Buck asks.

“Oh, I’m terrified,” Eddie admits. “But not of loving you. That’s the easy part. I’m scared of losing you. Of messing this up. Or something happening to you on the job or when you’re crossing the street. ”

“How about we make a deal,” Buck proposes, a little more confident now that he’s had time to process. “We won’t let each other mess this up. And I’ll promise to look both ways before crossing the street if you promise to stop diving off bridges.”

“It’s still our job, Buck,” Eddie points out.

“Then we’ll promise to do our jobs safely, and have each other's backs,” Buck declares.

“We’ve always had each other’s backs.”

“And we always will,” Buck vows. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Good.” Buck smiles, satisfied. “So, less terrified now?”

“Still scared,” Eddie admits, wrapping his arms around Buck’s waist as if that’s where they’ve always belonged. “But I’m feeling just reckless enough to reach for what I want anyway.”

“Well, I’m glad you are,” Buck says. “I’ve been too busy trying to convince people that I’m not in love with my straight best friend.”

Turns out he’d been wrong on two accounts. Because he definitely was in love. But apparently, he didn’t have a straight best friend. 

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s smile turns slow and knowing as he leans in, dropping his head until his forehead brushes Buck’s. His voice is low, intimate. “How’d that go?”

Buck’s breath catches. His head tips back instinctively, exposing his throat, giving Eddie exactly the access he seems to want. Eddie’s nose skims along Buck’s jaw, close enough that Buck feels every breath against his skin.

“Not great,” Buck admits, barely above a whisper. “Might have gone better if it were true. But I don’t think anyone believed me, anyway. Maddie didn’t. Tommy definitely didn’t- -”

Eddie stills for a second, then lifts his head, eyes dark but amused. “Hey,” he says, thumb brushing lightly under Buck’s chin. “Can we maybe not talk about your ex-boyfriend or your sister right now?”

“Right,” Buck breathes, nodding quickly. “Yeah, right,”

Eddie smiles like that’s exactly the answer he wanted—and then he kisses him again. 

It’s deeper this time. Hotter. Less careful. But still warm and deliberate, like he’s been waiting years to do it properly.

Eddie’s hand slides into Buck’s hair, tilting his head just right as Buck makes a quiet, helpless sound into his mouth. Buck’s hands fist in Eddie’s shirt, pulling him closer, like he’s afraid Eddie might disappear if he doesn’t keep hold.

The kiss deepens, grows hungrier, all soft sounds and shared breaths, until Buck’s trapped between Eddie and the benchtop and Eddie is smiling against his mouth.

“Bedroom,” Eddie murmurs, already steering them that way.

His hands are sure and eager, like he knows exactly what he wants. Buck lets himself be guided, barely managing to keep up.

They make it halfway down the hall before Eddie pulls back just long enough to tug Buck’s shirt up and over his head. His palms are warm against the skin of Buck’s chest.

“We’re coming back to the Tommy thing later though,” Eddie says with a rough voice and bright eyes.

“Uh huh,” Buck pants, letting himself be guided backward toward the bedroom. “Sure. Yeah. Whatever you want.”

Eddie grins and kisses him again, harder this time, like he plans on collecting on that promise.