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This isn’t how Buck thought his day would go.
Having a normal shift, with normal calls, was what he’d hoped for when he entered the station this morning—and yet, of course, the universe had other plans.
In fact, it’s mocking him.
It knows that he’s been avoiding Eddie, knows that they have things they need to talk about…knows that he ran the other day right after Eddie came out to him, like an idiot.
And now it’s locked them in a safe together.
Which, well. Doesn’t exactly feel safe.
But Buck had wandered off while they were answering a call at a bank, and he didn’t even realize he was walking into a walk-in safe until he’d done it, and Eddie had followed him because of course he had, and the door had slammed shut behind him, and now they’re stuck.
The second the door to the safe closed, Buck did everything he could to open it—which, considering it’s just a large, smooth slab of metal with no handles on the inside, really just consisted of sort of banging it with his fists and slamming his body against it a few times while Eddie watched with his arms crossed.
Eddie, for his part, tried to radio the team and was met with static. He also tried calling, but apparently there are no bars when you’re locked in a bank safe.
So now Buck’s pacing, a full four strides up and down the length of the safe from front to back, while Eddie watches from his spot in the corner, arms crossed, a slightly amused smirk on his face.
Not that Buck’s looking at his face.
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
“What if no one finds us?”
He wasn’t planning on saying anything, really. But they’ve been in here for who knows how long and they’ll be stuck in here for who knows how long and he can only listen to the rhythmic sound of his own footsteps for so long while he can feel Eddie’s eyes on him until he loses his mind.
“They’ll find us.” Even with his back to him, Buck senses the look that accompanies Eddie’s retort, the one that says don’t be ridiculous or you’re being dramatic or you’re being very Buck right now but also I know you’re actually worried, so I’m going to reassure you. “Soon enough, they’ll realize we’re missing, and they’ll come looking for us. There are only so many places we could be; it’s not exactly a big bank.” Eddie’s voice is even, measured.
Buck scoffs but doesn’t say anything in response. Just continues pacing.
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
Of course, Eddie’s calm. Of course, he’d get locked in a safe and be totally rational about it.
Somewhere in the back of Buck’s mind, he knows Eddie’s right, though. Their team will figure out, sooner or later, that they’re missing, and they’ll find them. He just really hopes it’s sooner, not later. He wants out.
Sure, he doesn’t like small spaces; he honestly doesn’t know many people who do. That’s not really the issue, though.
He doesn’t like being in here with Eddie.
Eddie, who he’s been avoiding.
Eddie, who won’t stop staring at him.
Eddie, who came out to him three days ago, which—is fine.
It’s fine that Eddie’s gay. Great, even. Buck’s happy that Eddie’s sure of himself, that he feels at ease with it, that he had the courage to tell him.
He meant what he said that night.
That’s great, he’d said. I’m so proud of you, man. And then they’d hugged it out, and Buck had caught himself nuzzling into Eddie’s neck a bit more than maybe he should have, and about a minute or two later, he’d muttered some half-assed excuse and left.
Because hearing Eddie say those words—I’m gay—had sort of broken something in Buck. It’s like someone poured water on the walls he’d built up around himself, made of sand, and they were disintegrating around him faster than he could rebuild them.
Eddie being straight had always been the pillar of those walls, blocking out any further inkling of a thought about him that went beyond the label of “best friend”.
So, he just needs some time. To rebuild those walls.
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
Just because Eddie’s gay and Buck’s bisexual doesn’t mean they have to be more than friends. In fact, it’s kind of homophobic to assume that they can’t just be friends, right? Or something?
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
Eddie probably doesn’t think of Buck that way anyway, so it doesn’t even matter. If he did, he probably would have said something that night. Like, “I’m gay and also I like you as more than a friend and I think you’re attractive so maybe we should kiss about it.” But he didn’t. So.
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
Not that Buck really gave him much of a chance to say anything. But still.
It’s been a few days. Eddie could have said something to him since then if he wanted to…except Buck has been avoiding him.
Which is why being stuck in a safe with Eddie right now is not exactly ideal. Being stuck in a small space together does not really go hand-in-hand with avoiding said person.
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
Seriously, how long have they been in here?
And, god, can Eddie please stop staring at him—
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
“Man, it’s so hot in here,” Buck complains, wiping his palms on his pants. He reaches the far end of the safe. Pivots, starts walking back toward the door.
“That’s because you’re pacing,” Eddie deadpans, still casually leaning against the corner of the safe, arms still crossed over his chest, still following Buck’s movements with his eyes.
Buck glares at him, turns, walks back to the other side of the safe.
“I’m anxious.”
“I can tell.” Buck knows the expression he’s going to see on Eddie’s face before he even turns around. A small, amused smirk, eyebrows raised, a little glint in his eyes.
“Well, sorry,” Buck drags out, not sorry at all. He doesn’t look at Eddie when he passes him again.
“Don’t be.”
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three, four. Turn.
“Can you just—”
There’s a desperate edge to Eddie’s voice that makes Buck falter, just a bit. He turns from the far side of the safe and looks up at Eddie.
“Sit.”
Eddie gestures to the corner across from him before sliding down into his own corner, one leg stretched out in front of him with the other tucked in close to his body, arm draped over his knee. As if on autopilot, Buck follows Eddie’s command, walking over to the corner he’d pointed at and sitting down, leaning against the wall and mirroring his pose. If he moves his leg over just a few inches, he could press their legs together.
He doesn’t.
“Do you think they’re going to accuse us of stealing money when we get out of here?”
Eddie tilts his head to the side. “I mean, I’d think they’ll probably check when they let us out, pat us down, just in case. But this safe’s empty,” he says, eyes darting around the general nothingness around them.
“Well, there are all those—” Buck gestures at the wall behind Eddie, lined with slots that are reminiscent of his apartment building’s mailboxes.
Eddie hums, a soft thing, more to himself than anything else. “They’re empty.”
Buck doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow at Eddie.
“I checked them while you were pacing.”
Buck scoffs. “All of them?”
“Well, no, not all of them,” Eddie says with a good-natured roll of his eyes. “But enough to be reasonably sure. Plus, they’re unlocked.” He reaches his hand up to the wall behind him. Without looking, he hooks a finger into one of the divots and pulls the tiny door open, just to prove his point.
“Oh.”
A silence stretches on between them, and it makes Buck nervous. Silence can be an invitation; it leaves room for them to talk. About things. Potentially things he doesn’t want to talk about.
He tugs on his fingers.
“What if they never find us?” It’s mostly a way to break the silence—mostly. But even he can hear the genuine worry behind it, no matter how casual he tries to sound.
“They will,” Eddie insists, once again. And his voice is so steady, so sure, that it leaves no room for argument.
So that didn’t work.
They sit in silence again. Buck wishes he were still pacing. He thinks about it for a second, thinks about getting up, but it just stopped being hot.
He has to say something. He has to say something. Fill the silence.
Except his mind is somehow racing and blank all at the same time, so no words come out.
Then they’re plunged into darkness.
Eddie makes a little noise, sort of a huh. Not concerned, not really much of anything. More like, well, would you look at that.
Buck tries to regulate his breathing, tries not to panic. It’s fine. Someone outside just must’ve hit the switch. Maybe that means they’ll be found soon, for some reason.
Then he sees a tiny green light out of the corner of his eye, blinking every few seconds.
He gets a thought. Waves his arms above his head. The lights turn back on.
“Aha!” He can feel his own smug, self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face. “Motion sensors. So I guess I was right to pace—it was keeping the lights on.”
Eddie gives him another one of his signature fond eyerolls and huffs out a sort of breath of a laugh. He scoots his stretched-out leg closer to Buck’s and knocks their ankles together.
“Shut up.”
Buck smiles despite himself. It’s like nothing between them has changed—maybe he was overreacting.
He looks at Eddie, at the easy-going smile he has on his face. God, even in the crappy lighting of this bank safe, he looks beautiful.
Okay, no.
Buck starts quickly gathering as much sand in his mind as he possibly can, scooping and scooping and scooping as far as he can reach. He has to rebuild those walls and quickly.
He looks down at his outstretched leg. At Eddie’s leg, still pressed against his, like it’s nothing.
He should move his leg.
He doesn’t.
If there were a clock in this safe, they’d be able to hear each second tick by, and Buck could focus on those little ticks instead of the messy thoughts swirling around in his head. But there is no clock, only silence.
Buck really should say something. Anything. Ask about Chris. Spew off some fun facts about safes, or banks. Just something. To fill the silence. So they don't have to talk about—
“So, while we’re stuck in here together…”
Buck freezes.
“...can we talk about it?”
Shit.
“Talk about what?” He keeps his voice casual, light. Hopes that he can feign ignorance and somehow stop whatever’s going to happen. Eddie sees right through that. Obviously.
“Buck.” He nudges Buck’s calf with the toe of his boot. Still doesn’t pull his leg away. Buck’s eyes snap up, like he’s following some unspoken command from Eddie—look at me.
“Eddie.” Fine, if Eddie wants to talk, they can, but Buck’s not going to make it easy. Nothing about this is easy. Maybe if he’s annoying enough, he’ll drop it.
“I came out to you three days ago and you ran out of my house.”
“I didn’t run,” Buck argues petulantly. “I had…stuff. To do.” He falters a bit, cutting his eyes away. He doesn’t even remember what excuse he gave before he left. He just saw his sandcastle walls disintegrating before him and knew he had to get out of there.
“You said you had to get milk. It was almost midnight.”
“I wanted…cereal,” Buck mumbles half-heartedly. “So I needed milk. To go with the cereal.”
The lights go off. Buck doesn’t move. Maybe if they stay in the dark, they won’t have to keep talking…for some reason.
But Eddie waves his hands in the air, and the lights turn back on.
So much for that.
Eddie nudges Buck’s calf. Again. Buck’s eyes snap up. Again.
“Buck.”
“Eddie.”
A deep sigh is drawn out of Eddie, and it’s like it just slips out, at first, but then he turns it into a long, slow breath.
“You never let me finish.”
“...What?” Buck understands the sentence independently. He understands each individual word, and he knows what they mean all strung together. But his brain can’t connect it, can’t comprehend how that sentence could possibly have anything to do with what happened the other night.
Or at least he can’t let himself understand it.
Eddie gives him a look, eyes all soft, lips carefully poised in a flat line, head tilted to the side slightly. A look that Buck’s seen before, a look that he knows well.
It makes something in his chest flutter.
“I told you I was gay, and then you got all fidgety and weird and left to go get milk,” Eddie explains, voice even, eyes never wavering from Buck’s. “But I had more to say.”
“O…kay,” Buck says slowly. The room suddenly feels hot again. He’s weirdly aware of his heart beating in his chest, feels Eddie’s leg pressed against his so acutely.
“And you’ve been avoiding me.”
Buck doesn’t defend himself, doesn’t even try to argue. Eddie’s looking at him so intensely, it’s like he can see right through him. So there’s no point. His tongue feels too big for his mouth. He doesn’t say anything.
“So…can I finish?”
“Sure,” Buck breathes, the word almost catching in his throat, barely louder than a whisper.
The lights only go out for a split second before Buck frantically waves his hand in the air to turn them back on. Whatever Eddie’s going to say, Buck needs to see his face when he says it.
He doesn’t—
He can’t—
He’s not letting himself hope.
But.
This feels important.
Eddie’s face looks calm. Composed. Confident. Buck knows better.
“So, I’m gay. That was important to tell you. But also…”
Eddie breaks eye contact, looks down at their legs that are still pressed together. Buck doesn’t dare take his eyes off Eddie’s face, though. Which is good, because he sees the slight shift of Eddie’s features when he lifts his gaze again and resumes eye contact with Buck, when he stares into his very soul and says—
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
It’s like, in a split second, a wave crests and completely obliterates those half-built, fragile, sandy walls, and all Buck is left with is…nothing.
Nothing between him and all of these thoughts and feelings that he’s been trying to shove down, push to the side, wall off, and not acknowledge.
Eddie just said that he loves him.
Well, he said pretty sure and in love. Still, it’s…overwhelming, but in the best way.
Because of course Buck is in love with Eddie.
Eddie, who’s so strong and beautiful, both inside and out. Eddie, who is his best friend in the entire world and also the best dad in the entire world, without a doubt. Eddie, who is brave and selfless and kind and gentle and genuinely just so good.
Eddie, who’s still staring at Buck, his faux-confidence crumbling away with each second that passes, each silent moment that lingers between them without Buck saying anything.
He really needs to say something.
“That’s—” Buck’s voice comes out as sort of a raspy whisper, so he clears his throat and tries again. “That’s…good.”
Eddie’s eyebrows turn up in the middle, just slightly.
“Good?”
“Yeah.” Buck’s face relaxes into an easy smile, eyelashes fluttering as he takes Eddie in, all of him, every tiny detail of the microexpressions on his face, the slight tension in his shoulders, the clasped hands resting in his lap. He feels like he can breathe, and he lets himself think and feel all of the things he’s been trying to avoid. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, too.”
Buck watches the tension leave Eddie’s shoulders, notices the exact instant the fear that had been creeping up in the depths of his chocolate-brown eyes evaporates. Relishes the smile that spreads across Eddie’s face, the way it crinkles the corners of his eyes, how his canines poke through.
“Oh,” he breathes. “Good.”
Buck presses his leg against Eddie’s, who presses right back.
His mind is racing again, but for an entirely different reason now.
Eddie loves him. Eddie’s in love with him. And Buck’s in love with Eddie. He admitted it, out loud.
Well, he said pretty sure. But so did Buck. He said it because Eddie said it.
Buck has a sneaking suspicion that Eddie said it because he was being cautious, worried that he might scare Buck off if he didn’t feel the same way. Added a qualifier, just in case, as an out. Because why would he say it if he wasn’t actually sure? Why bring it up?
Buck’s sure. He loves Eddie.
There’s no world in which Eddie could ever scare him off.
They sit there, smiling at each other—probably like idiots—and not saying anything, for a while. He has no idea how long.
Then the lights go off around them, and Buck is reminded that they’re still stuck in a safe. They’re stuck in a safe, and who knows when they’re going to get out of here, and the lights are going to keep going out unless there’s movement.
With a sigh, he gets to his feet. The lights turn back on.
As nice as it would be, he can’t just keep sitting there staring at Eddie when they’re locked in a safe.
He feels that anxious buzz thrumming through his veins again.
How long have they been stuck in here? Buck could check his phone, but he didn’t exactly take note of what time it was when they first walked into the safe, so that wouldn’t be helpful.
But also…
Eddie said pretty sure.
Which could mean nothing.
But it could mean everything.
Maybe he actually isn’t sure. Maybe he said it because he really wanted to talk about it, or because he thought that by saying it out loud, he’d somehow know for sure.
Buck said it, but he didn’t mean it. He’s not “pretty” anything. He’s sure. Despite the walls he’d tried to build up to block out his feelings, he knows it, without a doubt—he’s in love with Eddie. But maybe the feeling isn’t actually mutual. Maybe he just messed things up.
Fuck.
He thought his mind had settled, but his brain is going all swirly again.
So, he paces.
One, two, three, four. Turn. One, two, three—
Eddie’s lips are softer than he could have ever imagined.
Not that he’d thought about it. Not that he’d ever let himself think about it, not for more than a few seconds anyway.
But they are—soft, that is. They’re soft, so soft, and currently pressed against his own.
He didn’t even hear Eddie get up. Didn’t see him step into the path of his pacing. Certainly didn’t expect Eddie to place one hand on his waist, cup his cheek with the other, and kiss him.
Eddie's kissing him, and it's gentle, yet sure. Buck finds himself sort of melting into it, the way their lips mold together, the feeling of Eddie's calloused fingers against his cheek.
His brain is suddenly quiet, and he's operating completely on instinct. He settles his own hand on Eddie's waist, brings the other up to rest on his shoulder. He squeezes Eddie's waist, just slightly, and Eddie responds by pressing his lips against Buck's more firmly for another moment before pulling his head back, just slightly, just enough to catch his breath.
“Oh,” Buck breathes. Like an idiot.
Eddie chuckles, a low rumble in his chest, breath ghosting over Buck’s lips that are still mere centimeters away.
“Yeah.”
“That…”
“Yeah.”
Buck’s eyes flick back up to Eddie’s, just for a second, just long enough to notice that Eddie’s staring at Buck’s mouth. He slides a hand up the back of Eddie’s neck and guides their lips together once more.
This is…a mistake, probably.
Because now that he knows what it's like to kiss Eddie, what it's like to feel his lips, pliant against his, he doesn't ever want to stop.
Not now that he knows what Eddie tastes like, a hint of coffee and a whisper of cinnamon and something else so indescribably Eddie.
Not now that he’s gotten the chance to feel Eddie’s arm wrapped so securely around his waist, the solid heat of their chests pressed together completely, feel the soft glide of their tongues curling around each other.
Not now that he knows that Eddie likes to nibble and suck on his bottom lip, which is—so hot, it makes Buck's head spin.
His world narrows in, and all he can focus on is Eddie and his lips and his tongue and his teeth and his hands and—
A small, short beep barely registers in the back of his mind.
Huh.
They both pause, breathing into each other's mouths.
He hears it again, another few beeps, some clicking sounds, and he pulls back. Remembers they’re in a safe. Looks at Eddie.
He doesn't remember tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair, but he must have, because it looks like it does when he's just gotten out of bed. He also doesn't remember when his shirt became untucked, but it must have at some point, because Eddie's large, warm hand is pressed against the small of his back, skin to skin, and it's sending electric shocks up his spine.
Huh.
They take a moment to just look at each other, breathing heavily. Even with his hair a mess, Eddie still looks insanely hot—even moreso, actually, if that’s somehow possible.
A few more beeps ring out from the front of the safe, followed by some more clicking.
They both quickly step apart, putting some distance between them.
Buck doesn’t bother tucking his shirt back in, but he does straighten it out, smoothing down the front and making sure the buttons are all where they should be.
Just in time, too, since a second later the safe opens with an ominous groan, flooding the dimly-lit space with white light.
“Hair,” he murmurs to Eddie, flicking his eyes to the mess atop his head. Eddie’s eyes widen, and his hands immediately fly up to attempt to smooth down whatever Buck had apparently done.
“Oh, thank god,” Buck then says at a regular volume, loud enough for everyone else to hear, stepping around Eddie and taking long strides until he’s stepped out of the safe and into the bright light of the bank. If he’s exaggerating a bit in an attempt to divert attention away from Eddie flattening his hair behind him, so be it. But, well, he also mostly means it. He absolutely thinks he could keep kissing Eddie until the end of time, but he’d rather not do it while stuck in a locked safe.
As it turns out, Eddie was right; the safe was empty—had been emptied a few days ago. Something about faulty wiring with the locking mechanism and issues with the door.
No shit.
They still get patted down, for whatever reason. If the safe was empty, what could they have possibly stolen? Buck doesn’t argue, though. His thoughts keep wandering to Eddie, to their first kiss, how soft Eddie’s lips felt against his.
They get asked a few questions, are eventually cleared, and the team finally hops into the engine and makes their way back to the station.
Buck isn’t really present for any of that, though. His brain is clouded with thoughts of Eddie, and kissing Eddie, and the realization that they can just do that now.
They can kiss each other now.
Because they love each other.
Eddie said he loves Buck.
Well, pretty sure, and in love. But still. He’s now almost certain they’re on the same page with the whole being in love with each other thing.
In fact, his mind is replaying that moment on a loop in his brain when his thoughts are interrupted by Eddie speaking.
“Thank goodness you guys got us out when you did,” Eddie’s voice crackles over their headsets. Buck can tell that Eddie’s putting on his most casual voice, but he’s pretty sure no one else knows the signs, the tiny inflections, well enough to figure out that it’s an act. The team doesn’t need to know what they were doing in there before they got them out, doesn’t need to know that they both would have been totally fine if they’d been stuck in there for another five or twenty or sixty minutes. “Buck was losing his mind.”
Buck drops his jaw in mock offense. Mostly because he knows Eddie gets a kick out of it.
“I was not,” he protests. “I was just bored. It was boring being locked in a safe with nothing to do.”
He expects some sort of retort from the rest of his team, some sort of ribbing or teasing or something. What he doesn’t expect is a scoff from Hen, a small sigh from Bobby, and an awkward silence hanging in the air.
Buck turns his head, looking between Hen and Chimney before shooting a glance at Eddie, who just looks at him with raised eyebrows and a confused shake of his head.
“What?” Buck asks, eyes flicking back and forth from Chimney to Hen.
A beat passes. Another. Then Chimney speaks, very pointedly not looking at Buck.
“There was a security camera in the safe. One that actually worked.”
Buck feels the air leave him like a deflating balloon. If they know there was a security camera in the safe, and they know that it works, and Chimney and Hen won’t look at them, then…
“Oh,” he says over the headset, voice barely loud enough to be heard.
“Yup.” Even from that one syllable, Hen’s tone is obvious—they know. They saw…who knows how much. But enough, apparently.
“When we get back, I’m going to need to see both of you in my office for a minute,” Bobby says mildly. Buck almost swears it sounds like there’s a smile in Bobby’s voice as it comes over the headset. Still, he can’t help but feel like he’s being called into the principal’s office, and his heart is pounding.
He feels Eddie’s eyes on him, and, like he’s being pulled by a magnetic force, he meets his gaze. Instantly, he feels himself relax.
Eddie doesn’t look worried. In fact, he looks at peace. And if Eddie’s not worried, if he thinks that everything’s going to be okay, maybe it will be. Maybe Buck doesn’t need to start spiraling.
Eddie knocks his knee against Buck’s gently, presses their legs together from knee to calf to ankle. Buck feels like he can breathe; Eddie’s touch is grounding, safe. Eddie’s here, with Buck, and they love each other, and everything is going to be okay.
If he thinks about it enough, replays the memories in his mind, he can almost feel a phantom lingering of Eddie’s soft lips against his own.
Because Eddie kissed him today. Because Eddie loves him.
He can’t help the giddy smile that spreads across his face, which only gets wider when he sees his own expression mirrored on Eddie’s face, a delicate glimmer in his eyes.
This isn’t how Buck thought this day would go, but he wouldn’t change a thing about it.