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Eddie had just gone inside his house when he got a call from a very devastated Buck and immediately got into his truck and booked it to the loft. He was lucky that Tia Pepa had demanded a sleepover with her favorite nephew yesterday. When he got there, Buck was sitting on the stairs head in his hands, staring at the floor. He didn't even look up when Eddie walked in.
"Buck?" Eddie asked, crouching down to his best friends level. "What happened?"
The man in question said nothing but raised his head. Tears were gathered in his eyes, making the blue stand out more, but what Eddie couldn't help but focus on was the redness tinged with blue and purple on the skin around his left eye, the color blending in with his birthmark.
"This happened."
Eddie flinched a little at the bitterness in his voice. He reached out a hand but paused, wanting to have Buck's permission before he touched it. He gave it and Eddie's hand resumed its journey. He held his best friend's chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting his head more towards the light. The good thing and bad thing about Buck's loft is that it provided natural light, so Eddie could see how the bruising was looking.
"Who did this to you?" He was trying to keep the anger out of his voice as he gently let go of Buck's face, who ducked it down as soon as it was free.
"Chimney." He mumbled, cheeks heating up, whether from embarrassment or anger, Eddie couldn't tell. He pressed his lips together, pushing down the anger that threatened to bubble to the surface.
He then explained to Eddie what had happened that led to him getting punched. Chimney came by worried for Maddie and when he saw that Buck wasn't reacting like he was, he had pieced together that she had already told her brother where she was and made him promise not to tell Chimney.
“Okay, well, how about we get outside and ice this?” Eddie suggested, holding out his hand. Buck paused for a heartbeat, then let his fingers curl around Eddie’s, and Eddie felt the small squeeze that said more than words and Eddie pulled him up.
Buck moved to the freezer first, pulling out a plastic sandwich bag and filling it with ice. Eddie watched the careful motions, the way Buck’s hands lingered on the bag as if he were trying not to think about anything else—anything but Eddie standing there, waiting.
Buck went out to sit, so that gave Eddie time to grab a couple of beers out of Buck's fridge. He could tell that Buck didn't have a concussion, when he had tilted his had into the light, he saw his pupils react normally.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with his aim,” he remarked as he stepped out onto the balcony, his voice catching with a small laugh. “He got you good.” He handed Buck the drink and leaned against the railing.
Buck took it and moved the ice bag away from his eye with a small wince. "Look, I get that he's mad. What am I supposed to do?" He asked for advice while opening his beer. "She begged me not to tell him we talked."
Eddie tilted his head. "She's your sister."
"Thought I could help them both." Buck insisted softly into the air. "Could help her conceive her to come home and stop him spiraling out of control."
Eddie hummed and took a sip of his drink.
“Kind of failed on both fronts,” Buck remarked, his tone low and self-critical as he raised the melting bag of ice to his eye.
Eddie finished his drink and leaned his arm back on the railing, returning it to the spot where he’d moved it earlier. "You were always going to fail."
Buck balked a little at that. "Well that's dark."
Eddie turned to him, fully facing him. "Look, you love Maddie, and you love Chimney, and you're the guy who likes to fix things." He paused as he looked at Buck's face, listening intently. "But maybe this isn't something you can fix."
Buck leaned forward a little in his chair, voice taking on an almost pleading tone, like he wanted Eddie to understand where he was coming from. "He-he kept on saying that, you know, she could be in trouble, she needs our help. But I know she's going to be okay." He shook his head a little, a small, uncertain gesture. "He just doesn't know her the way I do."
“Or maybe you don’t know her the way he does,” Eddie said, raising his eyebrows, watching Buck carefully for his reaction, noting how his eyes looked down to the ground, before meeting his again as he started to explain more, "When you think of your sister, you see this person that you've always looked up to. The woman who's taken care of you. But maybe that's not who she is right now. This time, maybe she's the one who needs to be taken care of."
Eddie watched as word registered with Buck, the other man nodding his head, agreeing with him. He took a deep breath before asking, "You think he's going to forgive me?"
Eddie shook his head with a soft chuckle. “No.” He went for another sip, letting the silence hang for a beat. He then looked at his best friend, who's face was that similar of a kicked puppy. "Kidding. I'm kidding." Eddie thought for a second before adding, "Maybe."
Buck laughed a little and Eddie had never been happier to hear that sound. He then turned to him and noticed that the ice bag was off of his face. "Ice goes on the eye, bud." he reminded gently.
Buck winced but complied, and Eddie watched him for a moment, noticing the little furrow in his brow and the way his jaw flexed as he tried not to make a big deal of it. For a second, the balcony felt smaller, quieter, their conversation suspended between the laughter and the lingering tension of what had just happened.
After that, they fell into lighter, happier topics, how Chris was managing at school, how Eddie was adjusting to working next to Hen as a paramedic while Chimney was gone. Buck relaxed more with each word, the edge of worry in his shoulders softening as he smiled and laughed again, small bursts that Eddie soaked in like sunlight.
But no moment lasts forever. Eddie hesitated before bringing up the homecoming parade, carefully explaining the mix-up with the two girls. Buck’s smile faltered, the air between them growing heavier, and the conversation turned solemn once more. Eddie felt the weight of it settle in his chest, but he also noticed Buck leaning slightly toward him, as if looking for reassurance in the quiet way only they seemed to understand.
The air between them lingered, warm with unspoken words, but the sun had begun its slow descent, spilling gold across the railing. Eddie set his drink down and stretched, glancing toward the street below.
"I got to go pick up Christopher from Pepa's."
He reached the door but paused, turning back to Buck. For a moment, the world outside faded, and all Eddie saw was him—the way he shifted slightly on his feet, the quiet resilience in his expression.
Without thinking too much, Eddie stepped closer and pulled Buck into a short but meaningful hug. Buck stiffened just slightly at first, then relaxed, pressing back against him with a soft exhale. The contact was brief, but it carried everything Eddie didn’t say aloud: care, reassurance, and a quiet promise that he’d be there.
When they finally pulled apart, Eddie offered a small, reassuring smile. “Take care of yourself, alright?”
Buck nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You too, Eddie.”
Eddie stepped out into the crisp evening air, the hum of the city around him grounding him after the quiet warmth of the apartment.
Even as he walked to his car, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of Buck’s presence lingering behind him, like a shadow he wanted to reach back for. He thought about the way Buck had relaxed in that brief hug, the faint curve of his smile, and the quiet way he’d leaned just slightly closer. A small, unbidden smile tugged at Eddie’s lips, and he found himself adjusting his pace to imagine Buck walking beside him.
The evening air was cool against his face, but the warmth in his chest stayed, a steady reminder that some moments—even brief, fleeting ones—left traces that didn’t fade so easily. Eddie shook his head with a soft laugh and focused on the street ahead, letting the city carry him forward while Buck remained quietly present in his thought.
The thoughts stayed with him even as he greeted his son in the car, as he talked about what he and Pepa did at their sleepover. Eddie couldn't help but think that Buck should be sitting in the passenger seat, breaking down what Eddie couldn't understand.
When he got home, Eddie heated up the leftovers Buck had brought a couple of days ago, back when life still felt normal, before everything had turned upside down. The smell of the food brought a quiet pang of comfort, a small reminder of Buck and the ordinary moments they had shared.
He set the plate on the table and paused, staring at it for a moment longer than necessary. Each bite carried more than just flavor; it carried memories of laughter, of quiet afternoons, of Buck’s easy presence that made the world feel a little steadier. Eddie caught himself smiling faintly, thinking of the way Buck had laughed on the balcony, the warmth of his brief hug still lingering in his chest.
Even now, with everything unsettled, Eddie found solace in these small remnants of normalcy. The food, the memories, and the quiet thought of Buck reminded him that some connections, some feelings didn’t fade, even when the rest of life did.
After he was done, he cleared his and Chris' plates and ushered the pre-teen off to his room to get ready for bed, when in reality, he was most likely going to play video games until Eddie came in to remind him it was time for bed.
He sat down at the table, leaning back in his chair, head tilted as memories of his conversation with Buck replayed in his mind. Every word, every pause, and every small gesture they had shared on the balcony ran through him like a quiet echo, leaving him both warm and restless at the same time.
But more than that, Eddie found himself replaying how protective he had felt toward Buck in that moment. Just one harsh word or action from someone who was like a brother to him had been enough to make Buck shrink, like a kicked puppy, and it had stirred something deep in Eddie—a mixture of frustration, care, and an almost instinctive urge to shield him from any more of it.
He could still feel the tension in Buck’s posture, the way his eyes had flicked to Eddie as if silently asking for reassurance. It had been such a small, fleeting gesture, yet it had left a mark on Eddie’s chest, a reminder of how much he wanted to keep Buck safe, even when the rest of the world felt completely out of control.
He toyed with the idea of calling and giving Chimney a piece of his mind, but he knew that the man was going through a lot. Still he couldn't help but open his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the name.
It rang a couple of times before he heard his voice answer. "Eddie? Why are you calling?"
Eddie chuckled, a grin slowly encompassing his face despite the origin of why he called. "What, a co-worker and friend can't say hi?" He teased.
That seemed to loosen Chim up a little. "No, you're right. How's it going? You adjusted to being a paramedic yet?"
"No, not quite, Hen runs a tight ship, if you can believe it."
"Oh no I absolutely believe that. How are you doing otherwise? I can't imagine its easy being a man down."
Eddie shook his head, even if his friend couldn't see it. "Yeah its been hard." He paused and took a deep breath, "Some of us have been taking it harder than others." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but based on the hiss coming from the other end, he had failed.
"Eddie you have to know that I feel really bad about that." The man pleaded, his tone riddled with guilt.
Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words settle. He wanted to tell him that guilt alone didn’t fix things, that apologies couldn’t erase the tension. But another part of him the angry, frustrated, protective side snapped quietly beneath the surface.
He let out a slow, measured sigh, forcing his voice to stay steady. “I get that,” he said quietly, each word carefully chosen. “But saying you feel bad doesn’t change what’s happened… or how it’s hit people.”
“I was just really angry at him,” Chimney said, his voice tight with frustration. “He kept this from me and had me worried out of my mind for four days before I figured it out—and I snapped.”
Eddie let Chimney’s words settle, his jaw tightening just slightly. He understood the frustration, he really did, but the protective instinct he felt for Buck prickled sharply at the edges of Chimney’s explanation. Four days of worry might explain the anger, but it didn’t erase the effect it had on Buck, and Eddie couldn’t let that slide in his mind.
“I get why you were angry,” Eddie said slowly, keeping his voice calm, controlled. “But snapping like that… it doesn’t make it okay. Not for him, not for any of us. You have to think about what it did to Buck too.”
“I…” Chim started to speak, but the words trailed off, stuck somewhere between thought and voice.
“Look,” Eddie said, keeping his tone calm but firm, “I’m not invalidating how you felt—or how you’re feeling right now. But let’s take a look back to last year. Maddie told you something that altered Buck’s life as he knew it. Did he get mad at you? Did he punch you?” He shook his head slightly, voice softening but weight still there. “No. He didn’t.
“He trusted you, even after that. He didn’t lash out. He didn’t make things harder than they already were. He just… carried it. And that’s exactly why you need to think about how your anger affects him now. You can’t just snap and expect him to absorb it like it’s nothing."
Eddie’s voice took on a quiet intensity, the words measured but deliberate. “Buck built a family when he didn’t have one, and he feels like it’s falling apart because of something he tried, and failed, to prevent. His instinct is to protect. So when his sister—the person who practically raised him—asked him to do her this favor, he did it. Because that’s who he is.”
He let the words hang for a moment, then continued, firm but calm. “And that’s exactly why you can’t take your anger out on him. He’s loyal, almost to a fault, It's just who he is and you can't blame him for that."
Chim’s voice was quieter this time, almost breaking. “I… I didn’t think about it like that. I just...” He exhaled sharply, before continuing, “I was worried, and I let it get the better of me. I didn’t mean to… hurt him.” There was a long pause, the kind that carries both regret and relief. “I just… I didn’t realize how much he takes on already. I didn’t see how my anger would land.”
"I know you didn't, and I'm not telling you that you have to apologize right after this call ends, but eventually when you two are in a better headspace. Or if that's too much, after you and Maddie come back." Eddie's voice turned soft at the end. "And you are coming back with Maddie?"
Chim’s voice was quieter, almost tentative. “Yeah… yeah, we’ll come back together."
Eddie let the words settle, but his mind immediately went to Buck, to how he carried everything so quietly, smiling through it all even when it weighed on him. A sharp pang of protectiveness tightened in Eddie’s chest, that familiar urge to step in and shield him from anything that could hurt him.
There was a brief pause on the line before Chimney spoke again, his voice low with just a hint of teasing. “You know… you really care about him, don’t you?”
Eddie’s jaw tightened slightly. He let out a slow breath. “I care about a lot of people,” he said, keeping his tone even, though the words pressed at something he usually kept carefully contained.
Chim gave a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, a lot of people. But some more than others, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie said, a little too quickly, like he needed the words to land before anything else could.
There was a small beat of silence, and when Chimney spoke again, the teasing edge was gone. His voice softened, steady and earnest.
“I’m not saying it to mess with you," he said. “I’m saying it because he’s lucky to have you. Not everyone gets someone who shows up the way you do.”
Eddie swallowed, eyes dropping to the floor as he leaned back against the counter. The words settled somewhere deep, uncomfortable only because they rang a little too true.
“I just… look out for him,” Eddie replied quietly. “Same way I would for any of you.”
“I know,” Chim said. “But you and I both know it’s not exactly the same.”
Eddie didn’t argue this time. He just let the silence sit between them, softer now, less like something to dodge and more like something he wasn’t quite ready to name.
“After all,” Chimney said, that teasing note slipping back into his voice, “not everyone would go to bat the way you just did for Buck.”
Eddie let out a quiet breath. “Someone had to,” he replied, trying for casual and not quite managing it.
The words lingered in the space between them, and Eddie found himself staring at the floor, tracing the faint lines in the tile with his eyes. It felt obvious when Chim said it like that, like something he usually kept tucked away had been set out in the open.
Because it was personal. It always had been, even if Eddie rarely let himself examine why. Buck had a way of pulling that instinct out of him, that need to steady, to protect, to make sure he was okay before anything else.
He shifted his weight, clearing his throat softly. “He’s been through enough,” he added, quieter now, the edge of defensiveness fading into something more honest.
On the other end, Chim hummed in quiet agreement, and the conversation moved on, but Eddie could still feel the truth of it settling somewhere deep in his chest, warm and a little unsettling all at once.
Even as the call continued to wind down, Eddie’s thoughts drifted back to Buck—the way he’d shoulder everything himself, the quiet strength masked by vulnerability—and the protective knot in his chest reminded him, once again, why he couldn’t let anything threaten him.
The two said goodbye before Eddie hung up first, pocketing his phone after looking at the time. He went over to Chris' room where he was indeed playing video games. "Alright bud, time to wrap it up."
Chris didn’t protest—he set the controller down and crawled into bed without a fuss, tossing Eddie a sleepy grin.
Eddie followed suit, slipping into bed himself and letting the day’s tension finally start to melt away. His mind wandered briefly to Buck, the bruised eye, the teasing smile, and the quiet warmth that lingered from their earlier conversation.
For a moment, everything felt right, quiet, safe, and steady and Eddie let himself rest, knowing that for now, the people he cared about most were exactly where they should be.
The morning came and Eddie stayed in bed a few moments longer, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around him. The warmth of the blanket, the soft breathing of Chris, and the memory of Buck’s teasing smile from earlier tugged at him in a way he couldn’t shake.
But eventually, the world outside called, and Eddie knew he couldn’t stay cocooned in the house forever. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching briefly, then pulled on his uniform. The familiar weight of the paramedic gear grounded him, reminding him of the life he’d chosen—a life of urgency, responsibility, and sometimes chaos.
He had run into Carla as he was hopping in his truck and she gave him a nod and he gave one back.
He made his way to the station, mind shifting between the day ahead and the lingering thoughts of Buck. Even amidst the routines, the calls, and the adrenaline, a small, private part of him stayed tethered to the warmth and to the person he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Buck stepped into the firehouse, the familiar mix of heat, smoke smell, and distant chatter greeting him like always. He paused for a second, glancing toward the ambulance bay where Eddie was already going over gear, checking radios and supplies.
Their eyes met, and Buck felt that familiar tug in his chest—the one that made him hyperaware of Eddie’s presence. Eddie gave a small nod, a brief smile, and Buck returned it, trying to keep his heartbeat steady.
As they loaded gear for the first call of the day, Buck felt that quiet tension in his chest, the one that always appeared when Eddie was near. Not annoyance, not worry—something warmer, something that had nothing to do with work but everything to do with being near him.
The siren blared briefly as they pulled out, and the city blurred past, but Buck’s mind kept returning to Eddie—his steady hands, his calm voice, the way he always seemed to notice when Buck was holding more than he should.
Even amidst the chaos of calls and the rush of the morning, Buck realized he was more aware of Eddie than he wanted to admit. And somewhere deep down, he didn’t want that to change.
The call turned out to be a minor snafu with a stovetop and a teenager who wanted to do something nice for his mom. The teen had some minor burns as well as the mother. So they were back to the station fairly quick, with Hen and Eddie looking over the tools in the ambulance.
The day passed fairly quickly, and soon it was around mid-afternoon. Buck wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in the ambulance after the last call and letting out a tired sigh. The rush of the morning had faded into a steady hum of routine, of checking equipment, restocking supplies, sharing quick jokes with the crew but through it all, he couldn’t shake the awareness of Eddie nearby.
Eddie was double-checking the radios, methodical as always, but he looked up and gave Buck a quick once-over. His gaze lingered just a second too long on the bruise around Buck’s eye.
“Hey,” Eddie said finally, voice casual but carrying that familiar undertone of concern. “Your eye… still bothering you?”
Buck touched it briefly, wincing just a little. “Nah. It’s getting better. Won’t slow me down.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Better, huh? You sure you’re not just saying that?”
Buck shrugged, trying to keep his tone light, but he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. “Pretty sure. Don’t worry about me.”
Eddie sighed before saying, "I always worry about you."
He knew Eddie cared about him, they were best friends, after all, but hearing it laid bare like this hit differently. It wasn’t a casual, offhand remark or the usual teasing banter. There was something steady and real in the way Eddie said it, something that made Buck’s chest tighten and his stomach flip.
“I… uh,” Buck started, unsure how to respond. Words felt small and inadequate compared to the weight behind Eddie’s gaze. “Thanks,” he finally managed, voice low, almost a whisper.
For a long moment, they just looked at each other, the quiet hum of the station around them fading into the background. Buck felt something shift, a subtle awareness threading between them, a mix of gratitude, relief, and something more that made his chest feel impossibly full.
Buck had migrated to the couch in the loft, Hen occupying the chair next to him. The two sat in silence before Hen broke it with some...interesting information.
“You know, I heard some interesting information.” She waited for Buck's hum, indicating that he acknowledged her words. "Eddie called Chim last night."
Buck's head snapped to her, brows pinching together. "He did?"
“Yeah.” Hen crossed her arms loosely, tone calm but not casual enough to be meaningless. “They talked it out. Eddie… made sure that Chimney understood where you were coming from, regarding the whole 'you not telling him where Maddie is' thing”
Buck’s gaze dropped to his hands, fingers lacing and unlacing like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “He didn’t have to do that.”
“I think he wanted to,” Hen said gently. She leaned forward a little, "He told him you were trying to protect your family. That you weren’t keeping secrets to hurt anyone. Just… doing what you thought was right.”
Buck swallowed, throat tight. “He still mad?”
Hen shook her head. “No. Regretful. He didn’t realize how hard you took it.” She paused, softening. “He wants to talk when he and Maddie get back." She noticed him hunching in on himself. "And hey, he is coming back with her."
“I know that,” Buck said ruefully, “but I guess I’m just a little angry that Chim didn’t talk to me himself.”
A quiet settled between them, not uncomfortable, just thoughtful.
Hen studied him for a moment, then added, “You’ve got people in your corner, you know. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.”
Buck let out a small breath, something in his shoulders easing for the first time all day. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
And he did. Maybe not all the time, maybe not when his head got loud, but hearing it now, knowing Eddie had stepped in without being asked, made that truth feel a little steadier under his feet.
Hen reached over and nudged the ice pack toward him. “Eye,” she said, half-teasing.
Buck huffed a soft laugh and lifted it back into place. “Yes, ma’am.”
The tension didn’t disappear, but it loosened, leaving behind something warmer, something that felt a lot like being looked after.
He was just lucky that Bobby allowed him to work the shift as long as he promised he would ice that eye when they weren't on calls, and with Eddie and Hen watching him like hawks, he had a feeling he would be following that.
Hen watched him for a moment longer, like she was deciding how much to say. Then she leaned back slightly in her chair, voice softer.
“You know,” she said, almost casually, “Eddie doesn’t stick his neck out like that for just anyone.”
Buck glanced up, brow furrowing. “He would for you. Or Chim. Or Bobby.”
Hen smiled a little, not disagreeing, but not fully conceding either. “Sure. But this was different.” She tilted her head, studying him. “He wasn’t just defending a teammate. He was… protective.”
Buck shifted, the word landing somewhere he wasn’t prepared for. “He’s always protective.”
“Yeah,” Hen said gently. “But not everyone gets that version of him.”
The room went quiet for a second, Buck absorbing that, unsure what to do with the warmth that crept up his neck.
Hen didn’t push, just offered a small, knowing smile. “You matter to him. That’s all I’m saying.”
Buck looked down at his hands again, a faint smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “He matters to me too.”
“I know,” Hen said softly. “That part’s obvious. I mean it, Buck,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “I’ve known Eddie a long time now. He cares about all of us, yeah, but this? Calling Chim, laying it all out, making sure you weren’t carrying the fallout alone… that wasn’t just teammate stuff.”
Buck shifted in his seat, a nervous huff leaving him. “Hen…”
“No, hear me out,” she said, not unkindly. “He pays attention to you in a way that’s different. He notices when you’re off before anyone else does. He steps in without being asked. And when you get hurt, he takes it personally.”
Buck’s fingers curled together, the tips pressing into his palms. “He’s just… Eddie.”
Hen’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “Exactly. And you’re just Buck. But the way you two orbit each other? That’s not nothing.” Hen then stood up leaving Buck reeling with that information.
He kept replaying Hen’s words, over and over. Eddie had called Chim. He had laid everything out. He had stepped in, not because anyone asked, not because it was required, but because it mattered to him. And Hen had said it: Eddie noticed him in a way no one else did.
He thought about the balcony, the drinks, the ice bag. How Eddie had laughed, teased, and quietly made sure Buck wasn’t carrying the weight alone. That little thread of protectiveness—it had always been there—but hearing it framed like this, hearing Hen confirm it, made it more undeniable.
Buck pressed the ice pack a little closer and let out a slow, shaky breath. He cares about me. More than anyone else. Maybe more than I realized.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of calls and routine, but Buck couldn’t shake the warmth of Hen’s words, or the memory of Eddie’s quiet protectiveness. Even amidst the chaos at the station, his thoughts kept drifting back to the balcony, the drinks, the ice pack and the way Eddie had been there for him in ways no one else had.
By the time he returned to his loft, the city was waking up and turning the place into golden hour lighting, the noise from the city traffic playing like a song on repeat. He decided to take a quick nap before tackling the rest of the day but that proved to be his undoing and before he knew it, it was around midmorning.
He muddled around a bit, organizing his kitchen again because no matter what he did, it never managed to keep it clean. That kept him busy until lunch time, so he decided to make a list of what he needed to grab from the store either tomorrow or today.
Time had passed and it was now around dinner time, but before he could contemplate ordering something or making something, a knock came.
He went to open the door and found Eddie on the other side, holding a six-pack in one hand and a pizza in the other. "You have a key." Buck reminded him.
Eddie rolled his eyes good-naturally. "Well in case you didn't notice, my hands are a little full. So you going to invite me in or leave me standing out here?"
Buck chuckled and stepped aside, Eddie putting the drinks and dinner on the counter, then towing his shoes off. The two then moved to the couch, plates and beers in hand. The two sat in silence for a while, but it was comfortable.
Buck took a slow bite, glancing at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Eddie met his gaze with that easy, unshakable calm that always made Buck feel seen, understood, and… noticed in ways no one else did.
"You know," Buck said breaking the silence. "Hen told me something interesting today."
Eddie froze for a second, mid-bite, eyebrows shooting up. “Oh?” His voice was casual, but there was a subtle edge in it now, a curiosity laced with caution.
"Yeah, she told me that you called Chim after our talk yesterday."
“Did she now?” His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable edge—curiosity, and maybe a little defensiveness as he placed his plate down onto the coffee table.
Buck leaned back into the couch, letting a small, knowing smile tug at his lips. “Yeah. I mean… it makes sense, right? You wanted to make sure he understood how I was feeling.”
Eddie sighed deeply before turning, completely facing Buck. "Yeah, I did. You didn't deserve that Buck. I hope you know that."
Buck nodded. "I know I do, but you didn't have to defend me. I get why he did it."
Eddie leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking on Buck’s. “I defended you because of what happened with Chim,” he began, voice calm but firm. “Because what he did, snapping at you, punching you, whatever it was, you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t do anything wrong, Buck. None of it was on you.”
Buck was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Thank you, but out of curiosity, how exactly did you defend me?"
Eddie sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face, voice going soft. "I reminded him of how loyal you are, and that's just who you are. I also might've mentioned how when Maddie told Chimney about you having a brother, you didn't lash out at hi, for keeping a secret that Maddie told him. You just… carried it. Handled it. Like you always do.”
Buck blinked, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “You told him that?”
Eddie shrugged lightly, that protective edge still lingering in his gaze. “Yeah. Someone needed to. Because he needed to understand that snapping at you, punching you—it wasn’t okay. And neither was expecting you to just absorb it quietly. He also wants to apologize when he comes back. Hopefully with Maddie."
"Yeah, I don't think he's going to come back until he finds her." Buck commented.
Eddie nodded, his eyes softening. “I figured as much. But… when he does, he’ll realize how much you’ve been carrying, and how unfair it’s been for you to handle all that alone.”
Buck let out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. “It’s… nice to know someone’s in my corner.”
Eddie smiled, and placed his hand over his. "Of course, Buck. You know I'm here for you."
Buck’s heart thudded in his chest, heat rising to his cheeks. He swallowed, feeling the pull he’d been trying to ignore for months—the quiet gravity toward Eddie that had never gone away.
Before he could overthink it, Buck leaned just a little closer. Eddie didn’t hesitate; he mirrored the movement, closing the last inches between them. Their lips met softly, carefully at first, then with a little more certainty as the weight of months of unspoken feelings finally found release.
As they pulled back, Buck let out a little laugh, the sound light and unsteady. “Well… that was about time, huh?” he said, cheeks still warm.
Eddie chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Buck’s forehead. “Yeah,” he said, voice low and teasing, though his eyes held that same steady, protective warmth. “Way past time.”
Buck leaned back slightly, still close enough that their shoulders brushed. “I guess… I just didn’t know if you felt the same way,” he admitted quietly, voice a mix of relief and awe.
Eddie’s hand stayed on his, thumb brushing along the back of Buck’s. “I did,” he said simply, soft but certain. “Always. I just… didn’t want to push. Didn’t want to make it weird if you didn’t feel the same.”
Buck’s chest tightened, warmth pooling in his stomach. “Guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he said with a small grin, letting himself relax fully into the moment.
Eddie smiled back, leaning closer once more. “Nope,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Buck’s head, near his birthmark, being mindful of the bruising on his face.
Buck leaned against Eddie, letting himself relax fully for the first time that day. Eddie’s arm found its way around his shoulders, holding him close, steady, protective. “You know,” Buck murmured, voice soft, “I think I’ve been waiting for this, for us, for a long time.”
Eddie’s lips brushed the top of Buck’s head. “Yeah,” he said, voice low and warm. “Me too. And now… we don’t have to wait anymore.”
For a long while, they simply existed in that quiet comfort, letting the world outside fade away. No one was judging, no one was angry, no one was waiting—just the two of them, together, safe, and finally able to acknowledge everything that had been simmering between them.
Eddie shifted slightly, nudging Buck with a soft smile. “Dinner’s cold, by the way,” he teased lightly, and Buck laughed, the sound warm and free, blending perfectly with the comfort of home.
They shared a quiet, knowing smile, the kind that didn’t need words to say it all. Whatever came next, they’d face it together, stronger, closer, and no longer afraid to show just how much they cared.
And for Buck, that was more than enough.
The two sat like that for a while, close, quiet, the city outside fading into background noise. No words were needed—the closeness, the warmth, and the unspoken understanding between them said more than either could put into words.
Buck’s hand brushed against Eddie’s, almost accidentally at first, but Eddie didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled over Buck’s, warm and steady. Buck’s chest tightened, a quiet pull he could no longer ignore.
He tilted his head, meeting Eddie’s gaze, and in that moment, all the walls between them seemed to fall away. Eddie leaned in slowly, giving Buck time, and their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss—soft at first, then just a fraction deeper, as if every unspoken word, every protective instinct, every small moment of care and teasing over the months was being said at once.
When they finally pulled back, foreheads resting together, Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I… I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he admitted softly.
Eddie’s thumb traced the side of Buck’s jaw, voice low and certain. “Me too,” he whispered. “And I’m not letting it go now.”
"Neither am I." And with that, he kissed his best friend and partner.
They stayed like that for a while, quiet and close, letting the warmth of the moment settle around them. The city outside was still busy, still noisy, but in the loft, nothing else mattered.
Buck smiled faintly, resting his head back against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie pressed a soft kiss to his temple, and for the first time in a long time, Buck felt completely, undeniably… home.