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“I have a really big favor to ask.”
Buck startles at the voice sounding out from behind him. He didn’t hear Eddie getting closer, but it’s not easy to hear anything in the parking lot, while the auction is still slowly dying down near them. He turns just in time to catch a flicker of uncertainty running across Eddie’s face. The dim light of the sunset hides half his expression and even makes his black eye almost disappear in the shadows, but Buck notices the weird nervousness anyway.
He tries not to sound too concerned as he asks, “What’s up?”
The longer he stares the more he notices. Eddie looks a bit winded, like he had to chase Buck to catch up, like he really cares about whatever he wants to ask. Like he needs to do it now. Buck bites at the inside of his cheek, suddenly antsy about the question.
“So… I’m–” Edddie’s talking like he needs to catch his breath, even though he seems perfectly composed at the same time. His eyes drift away for a second before he focuses back on Buck. “I need help with the date.”
Oh, right. So, of course the unsettled bad feeling Buck had as soon as he saw Eddie had a point. Because of course it’s about the date. The date with the mystery bidder. The date that doesn’t concern Buck at all, it’s completely not his business, Eddie was lucky to have some nice woman bid so high on him. It’s not like he broke Buck’s record, there is nothing for Buck to feel jealous about. He’s got no reason to care. But.
The noise from the ending auction isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of someone’s steps, but his thoughts were. Buck can try and repeat on loop that he doesn’t care about the mystery bidder, but that’s not something his brain is planning to believe in so easily. He can’t stop thinking about it, about all the possibilities and potential dangers. Like they don’t know who that really is, they can’t be trusted so easily. Why did they need to be hiding behind the phone? Why would they spend so much money on a date when they weren’t even seeing Eddie and what he looked like today? Which was great by the way—he looked great—and anyone in this room could bid higher and it would be justified.
So, maybe Buck has some concerns regarding Edddie’s date, sue him. But it doesn’t even involve Eddie himself. Eddie can go on a date, that’s actually what Buck has been encouraging him to do, to open up, try new things. So, Buck is happy for him, of course he is. Just… there are other, better ways to find someone to date. In Buck’s opinion.
“Help?” he asks at last, remembering that the monologue won’t do as an answer to Eddie, who’s standing in front of him and wringing his hands like he’s asking for the most embarrassing thing in his life. Buck thinks that Eddie may look like this every time he asks for anything. “With what? You don’t want to go?”
Eddie hesitates a split second before he shakes his head, but Buck catches it. “No, it’s not that.” Buck doesn’t say anything as he observes Eddie work through whatever he wants to ask. “It’s just… I haven’t been on a date in a while, you know that, obviously, so I’m rather… out of practice?” He looks up like he’s checking if Buck agrees. Buck just raises his eyebrows, no idea where the sentence is heading. “So I need help to… prepare for it. And I thought you know what to expect from the people from the auction, and you have time, because your date isn’t… so demanding. So… if you’d like…” He finishes the sentence off with a vague gesture of his hands circling the air between them, like he was about to conjure a whiteboard to make Buck understand better what he was trying to say.
Buck looks at him, like he doesn’t understand, but the truth is it’s just his face catching up to the information his brain started to process already. Eddie wants help getting ready for the date. Because he cares, because he wants to present well, to impress his date. He wants to take it seriously. And he wants Buck’s help.
That’s half a joy Buck feels about this whole settlement, because ha! The date can be the date, but it’s still Buck who’s the first that comes up in Eddie’s mind when Eddie needs something, see? He’s still the first, he’s still more important. Not like he ever doubted it. They still don’t know who the mystery bidder is. They don’t have chances against Buck’s place in Eddie’s life.
And really there are good reasons behind Eddie’s choice: Buck does know what you eat the auction dates with, he doesn’t have to worry about his own one, and he self-proclaimed to be Eddie’s wingman just a couple of weeks ago. So if the chance appears he should be taking it. In case Eddie chickens out and backs away.
And most importantly, Buck can’t say no to Eddie. So what he says is, “Sure. Where do you need me?” Because he’s a good friend. He’s gonna help.
Eddie’s face lights up like he didn’t believe Buck would agree. Buck doesn’t understand where the doubt came from, but he doesn’t ask, the conversation already too awkward for their standards. Eddie is still playing with his hands like asking for help is the last thing he wants to do.
“Are you free tomorrow after shift?” he asks, after a second pause for thought.
Buck doesn’t even consider his plans, deeming whatever there may be less important than this. “Yeah, perfect. I’ll come over,” he offers, easing Eddie out of making another request. In return, he gets a smile that finally stretches Eddie’s face out of the concerned grimace and crinkles his eyes in the way that smothers sparks of reflected lamps in them.
“Thanks,” Eddie says and pats Buck’s shoulder as he passes him, heading for his car. Buck stares after him, watching the figure until it disappears in the shadows of the evening and wonders what kind of torture he just signed up for.
*
“Have you decided on time yet?” Buck asks in the form of greeting as soon as he passes the door. Eddie just follows him with his eyes as he enters without a care. “We need to know how much time we have to work with. Oh, and where are you going? The outfit has to fit the mood.”
“Good morning to you, too, Buck,” Eddie grumbles, when he catches up. Buck’s already on his way to Eddie’s bedroom, knowing the layout of the house too well.
“Time, Eddie,” Buck repeats, unfazed by Eddie’s remark, and if he wasn’t busy already rummaging through Eddie’s wardrobe, Eddie’s sure that he would look at him expectantly while pointing at his watch.
“This Saturday,” he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. He reels back only to check in his memory whether he has a day off then, but it tracks. “And place… I thought, maybe, Juliet?”
That catches Buck’s attention and makes him turn to look at Eddie, a shirt still in his hand. A flicker of surprise passes through his face, but he recovers before Eddie adds anything. Instead he smirks with one corner of his mouth and quirks an eyebrow, and Eddie knows he’s getting teased even before any words leave Buck’s mouth. “Juliet, huh? You’re going all in, I see.”
Truth is, Juliet is the closest, at least a bit expensive, restaurant that has come to Eddie’s mind at the moment. He hasn’t thought about it before, not even in passing. The place isn’t that important, the illusion is. He needs to maintain the illusion that there really is a date, that there are real plans for it. That Eddie treats it earnestly.
“Yeah,” he breathes out as an answer, because Buck is looking at him with a glint in his eyes, like he’s genuinely impressed by Eddie’s choice. It makes something warm uncurl behind Eddie’s ribs. “Thought I should take it seriously this time.”
“That’s a great spirit,” Buck agrees, barely containing the excitement that overflows and spills through the cracks of his smile. He goes back to assessing Eddie’s clothes. “Let’s see your options then,” he declares, withdrawing a shirt from the closet. “Try this.”
Eddie accepts the hanger reluctantly and sends Buck a doubtful look, like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with it.
Buck tilts his head. “Come on, man. Hop, hop, go change.”
Eddie's still looking at him incredulously, but he can’t help an amused smile at the earnest expression at Buck’s face. “Alright.”
Buck casts him one last look, trying to hurry him with his eyes, like he doesn’t believe that he’s more excited with Eddie’s date than Eddie is.
Well, the thing is, Eddie has never been so calm about the date in his life, he thinks. Primarily because there’s no date to be stressing about, at least not a real one. But Buck doesn’t know that, and Eddie’s part of the deal is to make sure that it stays this way.
He was really desperate when he was begging Maddie to help him out of the auction, and it might’ve costed him a bit much in exchange, but there weren’t things he wouldn’t have promised back then, in order to save himself from a panic attack of having to go to another date with a person he barely knows. So there he is now, playing into his part of the deal, which Maddie decided to be: ask Buck for help with the date as if it’s a real one. He doesn’t know what she wanted to achieve this way, or he doesn’t want to believe she could be right, since anything she’s implied has been sheerly ridiculous.
But that was the deal, and she did buy him out of meeting new women, so he could play into her weird fantasy as a thank you. Even if it’s turning out harder than it seemed at first as he observes the excitement Buck holds for the idea of finding someone for Eddie. It squeezes at something in Eddie’s chest, but he can’t name it at the moment, so he takes the shirt and disappears in the bathroom.
*
Buck can’t even tell how he ended up in this position: sitting on Eddie’s bed with a notebook he grabbed from some box in the corner, watching his best friend give him a fashion show of all the outfit options they can find in his closet. He ticks off the ones Eddie tried, notes down colors to keep, and divides the clothes Eddie takes off into two mental piles: to think about and no option.
At some point Eddie stopped going back and forth, in and out of the bathroom, and now he would just shed one shirt and put on the next right there as soon as he got one, handed from Buck. And Buck is losing his mind.
It’s far from the first time he’s seen Eddie shirtless, or even pantless, but the effects have never dimmed. Because, well, Buck has eyes, okay? And Eddie is an attractive guy, objectively. Like, you could ask anyone, and they would agree, anyone with eyes and at least an ounce of good taste would say there is what to look at when Eddie enters the room. Isn’t the auction kind of a proof for this? Someone spent over two thousands for a chance, for a moment in Eddie’s vicinicity. So obviously Buck is lucky and Buck can appreciate it. In a normal, normal, calm way.
Buck doesn’t know what he did to find himself in the position that allows him to watch Eddie change once again. His back is turned to Buck, but there’s just enough skin flexing under the clear light of the lamp for him to be staring with his mouth only a bit open. He recovers quickly once Eddie turns to look at him again, presenting the tenth outfit of the night, a gray shirt with two top buttons unclasped to reveal a sweep of skin, and a pair of dark jeans.
Buck is nodding, trying to look as normal as possible. He assesses Eddie’s look up and down, objectively, platonically even.
“Can you twirl around?” Buck asks, seriously, like it’s a valid question. Eddie looks at him with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, not even incredulously, just done.
“Is it really necessary?”
“Well, we’re looking for the ultimately the best option,” Buck says, shrugging. “At least sit down.”
“Do I need to pose with every single one?”
“You were the one asking for help. I thought you knew what you were signing up for.” Buck is grinning to hide the smooth lies behind his teeth. They’re not choosing the hottest option, no way. The hottest was two tries ago, a violet shirt and black suit pants, but Buck rejected this one quickly (after a couple of seconds spent staring, but that isn’t the point, and that he could justify by thorough thinking about it).
What he decided in the silent war of the inside of his mind is that the first date isn’t enough of an occasion to use up such a great outfit. Eddie should save something up for the next ones. Or for better chances, or for people that aren’t meeting up with him only because they have enough money to wave around with. They aren’t worth it, in Buck’s opinion. That’s why he says it looks terrible on Eddie. And that’s also why he rejected the next one, a white henley with the same pair of suit pants. He declared the pants the problem. In his words, Eddie’d look too stiff. In his mind, Eddie shouldn’t be putting so much effort into a random date with a person he might never see again after it. So jeans, they settled on.
“No, no, gray is terrible,” Buck announces at last, as if only when Eddie sat down, he could notice it with certainty. “Try the red one.”
Eddie’s closet doesn’t serve much variety, but Buck’s still surprised with how many shirts, basically identical in their forms, he possesses. Does he collect them for fun or is there an actual reason for them?
The thought flees Buck’s mind, because Eddie’s unbuttoning his shirt right after he sighs deeply, and Buck doesn’t have enough time to prepare himself. He looks down at his lists just out of respect, like Eddie might want it from him, an illusion of privacy.
He’s calm and collected for about half a second, before his eyes defies orders of his mind and drifts back to where Eddie’s discarding the gray shirt onto a pile and picking up the next. Long seconds pass as he searches for the right end to start putting it on, and then some more in which his arms are hidden, but a wide expanse of his chest still isn’t, and Buck focuses so hard on not breathing too loud that he ends up choking on his saliva.
Eddie looks up, his hands on the hems of the shirt, still half unbuttoned. “You okay?”
Buck shakes his head through his coughing fit, trying to send a clear message of being fine. It’s not going the best for him. “Yeah,” he wheezes out at last, then inhales sharply. “Just… blue won’t do. I think nothing’s beat the burgundy one.”
Eddie stares at him for a second longer, drops his eyes to the shirt where he still holds it around himself, and then back at Buck. “It’s red,” he says.
“And burgundy is the darker one.”
“I know what bur–” Eddie starts, but he resigns himself off with a sigh. “But this one is red. And you said blue won’t do.”
Buck scrunches his eyebrows as far as they can go, trying to hide the panic suddenly rising in his lungs when he understands Eddie’s words. “Did I? O-Of course I meant red. Blue won’t do either, tho.”
“Right…” Eddie replies and goes to unbutton his shirt, but stops with his fingers on the buttons again. Buck can’t stop staring. “Do you need me to put it on again? Give you a few more poses just so you’re sure?”
Buck blinks, but he doesn’t manage to move his gaze away from Eddie’s hands. “No, no, I’m sure.” A pause, a thought. “Burdgundy will be absolutely perfect on you.”
That’s it, that’s a nice compliment, Buck thinks with a sense of achievement. He has stopped himself in the last moment from saying something closer to you'll look absolutely perfect in burgundy or yeah, that’s the hottest you looked tonight, because Buck is a good friend and he’s helping Eddie get ready for a date, so he’s not gonna make it awkward, or turn it around to be about himself and his opinion on Eddie’s appearance. Why would Eddie care anyway? The objective opinion, the vague, common statement of the color being perfect is the better option. Buck is so proud of himself.
But he’s also just a man, so he can’t deprive himself of looking at Eddie’s insane figure, accented by the shirt and jeans he’s in. “Stay in this for now,” he adds before Eddie can start undressing again. Yes, red isn’t really his color, but there’s nothing out there that wouldn’t look good on Eddie Diaz. That’s another thought Buck saves for himself with the great effort. It would be of no help to tell Eddie you would look stunning in anything, so he doesn’t. Instead he indulges himself, outlining Eddie’s form with his gaze, tracing the strain of material on his biceps and his waistline that the shirt is hugging like it’s been tailored specially for a purpose of torturing Buck.
When Eddie sends him a questioning look, Buck just smiles innocently with one corner of his mouth. “Now to the hair,” he announces and gets up from the bed to stand closer to Eddie.
It’s clear that Eddie has just taken a shower after their shift, his hair not styled much into anything, simply loosely combed into a pile of dark strands, free of hair gel. And he looks great like that, but—once again—that’s an unhelpful observation.
“You should…” he starts, but comes up empty of verbal suggestions, so he looks down at Eddie’s face, searching it for an objection. “Can I?”
Eddie’s eyes widen a fraction, like he doesn’t understand the question, but hums approvingly anyway, trusting.
Buck reaches out and hesitates a second, before he lets himself run his hand through Eddie’s hair, combing them back before letting them fall to the sides. He does it once more, ruffling it on the way down. Eddie doesn’t say anything through the whole process, but Buck can feel his breath on his jaw, and realizes he has probably stopped breathing at some point because of the proximity.
He runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair once more, trying not to focus too hard on how smooth they feel under his hand. When he moves away, Eddie’s eyes are fixed on his face already, and the realization of what he’s doing hits Buck like a train. He takes another step back, and looks Eddie up and down to hide his own embarrassment.
“Well, well…” he says, assessing. “Now we’re talking. Just the burgundy shirt and you’ll sweep your lady off her feet.”
*
Eddie is going through all the emotions known to the human kind within mere seconds. From the absolute endearment over Buck’s eagerness to help him in whatever he asks, through the great effort of controlling his breath when Buck’s face was so close to his and fighting the urge to just lean into his hand, all the way to an abrupt whiplash of hearing about a potential date, hypothetically still real, at least as long as they’re playing this game, as long as they don’t leave this room.
“I think you’re ready,” Buck says and it pulls Eddie out of his thoughts. “And with four days to go.”
Eddie nods along, just because Buck looks so proud of himself, but he swallows, bracing for one more request.
“Actually,” he starts. If he could bring himself to curse Maddie, this would be the moment. “There’s one more thing.”
Buck tilts his head, like this piqued his interest after he’s just resigned himself into thinking the job is done. Eddie likes to think he even looks a bit excited about it. “What else?”
Eddie takes a breath, then another as he gathers all the strength in himself. “The actual date.” Maddie really went beyond when she was standing her conditions. “Like, I don’t know what to talk about, how to act and all that stuff.” Embarrassment burns like fire in his lungs, radiating to his cheeks. “Could you… show me?”
Buck blinks at him, not one emotion behind his eyes. For a long second Eddie thinks that he’s gonna say no, he’s gonna laugh it off like a normal, not attracted to you, best friend would and Maddie’s not gonna believe him, even though Eddie did expect a failure, on this front she has built, from the beginning. He doesn’t know what she’s planning to do if he doesn’t fulfil his part of the deal, but he’s not really keen to find out what her options are. He’s sure she has something up her sleeve—
“Sure,” Buck scoffs, but the word is genuine, he’s agreeing. The idea amuses him apparently, but he’s willing to help. Eddie’s heart drops to his stomach, and he’s glad Buck has retreated the two steps away, because he would be able to hear its thudding if he was standing any closer. “Will you need help with kissing too?”
The half smirk on Buck’s face says he’s joking, everything in Buck’s stance says he’s joking, their history and Buck’s personality and his normal attitude tells Eddie that he’s joking, teasing, but his heart still needs a second to adjust, to learn what his mind already knows. “I hope not,” he plays into it, and hopes his voice comes out stronger than it feels in his throat, full of bile at the moment.
“You’ve got Thursday night off, right?” Buck asks. Eddie doesn’t think it through before he nods. Buck’s face lights up with a smile. “Alright, then I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice.”
And he sends him a wink to finish off the words, and that’s the moment Eddie knows he’s done for. Buck is going to take it even more seriously from now on. He’s gonna put all his efforts to show him how to charm someone, because he doesn’t know he doesn’t have to do anything more to charm Eddie.
*
Buck has two whole days to process the concept of going on a mock date with Eddie, two whole days to prepare and to spend freaking out, to be ready and calm when the day arrives.
It’s not enough.
Well, obviously, he doesn’t have much more time, he can’t postpone it. Not only don’t they have another day off until the weekend, but also Eddie’s real date is approaching rapidly, and he doesn’t even know what he has to work with, so he can’t say for sure if they’re gonna get everything necessary covered in time.
No, that’s stupid and Buck is lying to himself, when he’s saying there are chances that Eddie’s not ready for the date. He might not know, not remember what the dates look like, but this is not something to learn, it’s natural, and Buck’s sure it’s natural for Eddie, too. He’s sure Eddie could go to the date straight from the street, no preparations, and he’d still win them over easily, with his born-in charm and looks and sense of humor and big heart.
Not that Buck has ever thought about what a date with Eddie looks like. It’s not his business, not one of the spheres of Eddie’s life that Buck interferes with.
At work they don’t talk about the plans at all, like they’ve been made by different people, not them. Buck doesn’t mention it to anyone, because he feels like he’d need to explain too much, and they wouldn’t understand anyway. For him it’s pretty simple, he’s just helping out: an easy arrangement, reaching out to one person you can always lean on, who offered their help in this field before. And who's kind of an expert anyway.
So it all makes sense in his mind, no one else needs to hear it. Maybe he’ll recall it one day when it’ll be long behind them, and Eddie will be remembering how he met the next love of his life and how big a role Buck played in it. Then it’ll be easily understood, it’ll be justified. So, Buck is doing it for greater good, and he’s not boasting about it. Look at him, so brave and so quiet about his suffering.
Then, two days pass, and Buck is still freaking out, even though he can’t name the reason.
He’s driving up to Eddie’s, changed after the shift. He could’ve squeezed a nap into the time he had before the promised hour, but he tried to no effect, stressed about something, like it’s a real date. Naturally he does care about it going well, because Eddie cares about his real date going well, and Buck doesn’t want to leave him anxious about it, even if he knows that Eddie’s exaggerating about his cluelessness. Still, Buck wishes his heart knew the difference between real dates and helping your best friend out.
He rings to the door, even though he has the keys and though he’s almost sure he saw a movement of the curtains in the window. Eddie opens the door anyway, playing along, and revealing the outfit they chose. Buck’s throat runs dry.
“U-uh, you look good,” he says after a long second that feels like a millennium of standing in front of a dressed up Eddie Diaz, pretending to be taking him for a romantic dinner. It’s starting to sink in.
“Thanks,” Eddie replies, but it’s flat, and Buck’s already regretting that he opened his mouth at all. He’s not deep in his role enough to be convincing. “You… want to come in?”
“No, actually, we’ve got a reservation, so…” He gestures in a vague direction between them, and then to his car. “So we should get going, I think.”
Eddie arches an eyebrow, but he reaches back into the hall to grab his keys and closes the door. “A reservation?” he asks, a teasing lilt back in his voice. “Are you stealing my idea?”
Buck chuckles. He turns around first to lead the way and open the car door on the passenger side for Eddie. Eddie sends him a bright look, something almost excited as he gets in. “Not precisely. Juliet’s too much for me,” he says and gets around the car to get in, too. “But you’ll like this one.”
*
The drive to the restaurant Buck has chosen lasts mere five minutes, and Eddie can tell that Buck’s even prolonging it on purpose to give him the full experience. He’s so focused on Buck’s posture as he’s driving and on trying to guess where they might be heading that he doesn’t notice the car has gone completely silent.
“Why are you so quiet?” Buck asks, casting a glance in his direction. “Are you taking notes?”
Eddie huffs out a chuckle. “Watching the master in his work.”
“Oh, we’ve got a flatterer,” Buck says and Eddie notices lines becoming blurry. He can’t tell anymore if he’s talking with his best friend Buck or with the dating expert Buck, an actor in his role. “But you don’t have to be so stiff. You can’t be taking it too seriously.”
Eddie wants to retort with something smart, but he notices blinker coming on, bringing his attention back to the place. It’s not hard to recognize, when it’s only two streets away, but Eddie still can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“A Food Affair?” he asks, more to himself, but Buck hums anyway as he kills the engine.
“Not as expensive,” Buck admits, turning in his seat to look Eddie in the face. “But I think it’s good enough. For the illusion.”
Eddie’s breath catches when their eyes meet over the console. Right, for the illusion. It’s all not real. He almost forgot.
“I guess it’ll do for tonight,” he teases, but he can hear how breathless it comes out.
Buck huffs out an annoyed breath. “Come on,” he says, getting out. “You wanted to try the calamari.”
Oh. Here he is again, his best friend Buck who remembers Eddie has said a couple of times lately that those funny looking rings piqued his interest and he never had a chance to try; his best friend who took the chance to turn their practice date into something fun and enjoyable.
At this point Eddie does expect Buck to move his chair for him, but it still manages to catch him off guard, how smoothly Buck does it, how good he looks, sparks exploding behind his ribs. He sits down, mainly to save himself from the shame of collapsing out of wobbly knees.
They’re sitting across from each other, like they did thousands of times, but something’s different and Eddie can’t put his finger on it, a shift in the air, a mystical glow of the led lamps. He takes his chance to observe Buck reading the menu, the way his eyes follow the lines and his nose scrunches up from time to time and his eyebrow raises like he’s catching interest in something. Eddie looks at the effort Buck has put into tonight, that he also played the dress up, styled his hair, planned it all out, like it’s a real date. Like he really cares.
“So… what more can I help you with?” Buck asks when they placed their orders, and his eyes don’t have anywhere else to go than to focus back on Eddie.
Eddie chews at the inside of his cheek. The two Bucks are blurring together again. “I… don’t know what to talk about. I don’t want it to be awkward.”
“It’s easy.” Buck flashes him a grin, and Eddie feels like he just downed half a bottle of tequila. “Talk about something you like to talk about. Like hobbies, job… Chris, weekend plans… It flows naturally when you’re in the right company, really.”
Eddie squints at him, because it’s not enough to work with. Buck visibly understands it and, with a soft sigh, he leans closer over the table.
“So, a firefighter, huh? Is it really as exciting as people say?”
Eddie huffs out a surprised chuckle. “No one says that.”
Buck sends him an amused smile. “Outside people tend to. Trust me, I have experience.”
Right. Buck has experience, that’s the reason why he’s here tonight, why he agreed to any of this.
“Okay, different path,” Buck says, and shakes himself a bit, as if entering a new role. “So, how old is your son?”
Eddie drops his chin to emphasize the incredulous look on his face, but Buck doesn’t let up, waiting for the answer with a light, curious smile.
Eddie looks to the side, as if someone was to catch them pretending, and returns his eyes to Buck. “Uh, fifteen this year. In the fall.”
Buck nods along, like it’s a deliberate answer, and it makes Eddie want to laugh. His shoulders relax a little.
“Oh, so he’s in high school? What’s he up to?”
“He… Yeah, he’s in high school, pretty smart kid. He’s joined an aerospace club recently and it’s all he’s talking about. He’d love to be building planes in the future, or be a mechanic. That’s what he says, and it’s a great idea, because he’s really talented, like, manually. Recently he made a model of—”
Eddie cuts himself off when he notices Buck looking at him with absolute attention, eyes lit up with curiosity. Like he doesn’t know all that already.
“See? Was it that hard?”
Buck is smiling at him so wide, so earnest, and Eddie just wishes he had words to describe whatever his heart is doing at the moment. And words to tell Buck the truth.
*
Buck isn’t even that curious about Eddie’s date, for the record.
But since he got pretty much involved in the process and he’s now in possession of too much information for his own good, he can’t really talk himself out of caring. Theoretically, he knows he can just ask Eddie tomorrow, they don’t have secrets in front of each other. But there’s this itch under his skin, a restless hurricane under his ribs that wants him to check how everything’s turning out in real time.
Buck’s car is parked on the side of the road, where he can see the entrance to Juliet.
It wasn’t his plan to end up here, it just happened. And it’s ten past seven and he still hasn’t seen Eddie.
It’s not a crime, he knows. But he also knows that it’s not in Eddie’s style to be this late. And he knows he’s staring into the dark hard enough that it’s impossible he has missed them entering.
Did something happen? Did she cancel at the last moment?
It’s not the first time Buck thinks about how he hates the fact that he doesn’t know who the mystery bidder is, but it’s serious this time. He would be able to recognize her, to know if it’s just Eddie’s issue with getting here.
Buck’s quite sure Eddie would tell him if the plans got called off. Like, who else would he call about it? Maybe he would invite him over to use up the saved time, not to let all the practice go to waste.
But Buck’s phone stays silent on the seat beside him, and the restaurant door hasn’t been opened by anyone in a while. It’s eighteen past and Buck can sense something’s wrong, a chill in the air, an itch behind his ribs. He waits three more painfully long minutes, before he decides he’s about to lose his mind. Something must’ve happened.
He takes off before it even registers in his mind. Late evening roads aren’t the emptiest, but he blanks out the whole way, and wakes when he’s in front of Eddie’s house. All the lights are off, but Buck can’t choose if it’s better or worse. He can be almost sure that they haven’t cancelled, because then Eddie’d be home, and the house wouldn’t look so dead.
So, either Eddie is out (in a restaurant and he has somehow passed under Buck’s nose) or he’s out (passed out, or bleeding out, unconscious on the—
Buck bangs on the door like his life depends on it. It might.
“Eddie!” he calls, between one forceful knock and the next. “E-Eddie! Can you hear me?”
If something happened to Eddie tonight, it would be extremely unlucky in the context of the date. But it would be even worse with the way it happened when Buck wasn’t close, as if they weren’t together for the whole last week, no breaks. That’s how it ends when he lets Eddie out of his sight.
Somewhere within this panic Buck remembers he has keys, and his mind quickly turns from the door to fumbling in his pockets. By the time he finds the right one and tries to guide it with his shaking hands, the door opens and he almost falls in.
“Buck?” Eddie asks, his voice low and rasp. “What’s wrong?”
His face is full of concern, all scrunched up brows and wide eyes, but Buck can’t process it, when he sees it on Eddie, unscathed, standing, safe.
“You’re alright,” he says, fist clenching around the keys so tight that they bite into his skin, but he doesn’t notice the pain.
“Yeah?” Eddie confirms, but it sounds more like a question than Buck’s did. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Buck is still shaking, everything rattling loose inside him. “You weren’t at the restaurant,” is the best he can offer.
It takes a split second for the words to reflect on Eddie’s face in a form of surprised understanding. “And you were?”
Buck opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, arguments from earlier dying against Eddie’s gaze that feels like a blessing at the moment. Something stings in Buck’s lungs, his hand automatically flying to cover it. “I… I think I need to catch a breath.”
Confusion doesn’t leave Eddie’s face, but it softens around the edges, eyebrows dropping a notch. He moves out the way into the hall. “Come in.”
Buck follows him, but he can’t stop himself before asking once again. “You didn’t go.”
Okay, he’s not asking. He’s assessing the situation, because the situation is still too ridiculous for him to process.
Eddie doesn’t turn to him yet. “But you did.”
“I thought something happened to you.” Buck throws his hands in the air, because the nerves from the last hour have been building up. “I needed to check.”
Eddie turns his face to him and his eyes are soft. Buck’s glad he understands what he wants to say. It’s not the first time, not even tenth, when they need to check on each other just out of the irrational bad feeling that something might’ve changed since the last time they saw each other. It comes together with their lives and jobs.
“I’m alright,” Eddie says, a soft whisper. “All perfect.”
Buck squeezes his eyes, runs his hand down his face. “Yet you didn’t go on the date,” he argues, like he’s deflecting. Like he needs a defence line. “I thought it was important to you. You were taking it so seriously.”
“There was no date.”
Eddie’s voice cuts the air so rapidly that Buck thinks he imagined it. “W-what? But the mystery bidder—”
“Was Maddie.” Eddie’s eyes meet his, and there’s something almost like grief in them. “I asked her to.”
“Why?” Buck’s throat closes around the words, until he forces them out. “And why didn’t you tell me? What was this whole set for?”
“It’s… kind of hard to explain.”
Suddenly, Buck feels like he’s been punched to the chest. “Really?” he asks, and it comes out angrier than he intended. Once the valve lets up, everything comes spilling out. “Well, it’s hard to understand, too. You were lying to me for the last week. Was it funny to you? Why would you use my feelings for you like this?”
“What feelings?” Eddie furrows his eyebrows like he’s genuinely confused, but Buck can’t bring himself to mind.
The frustration flares up in his lungs. He’s not controlling the conversation anymore. “Oh, now you don’t know. Why would you ask me to prepare you for a date that was never gonna happen? Why did you know I would agree?”
“Because you’re my friend. And you love helping.”
“Well, sure hope I helped you with that one.”
Buck turns, ready to leave, because he can sense that he’s teetering on the edge of saying something he’ll regret. He doesn’t get to take more than three steps before he hears a matching sound following him.
“Buck, wait,” Eddie calls after him. Buck stops in his tracks, but still stubbornly faces the door. “I had to ask you. That was my part of the deal with Maddie. I… I didn’t want it to end like this.” A pause. Buck still considers the door. A heavy breath behind him. “But I also didn’t think it would feel so real. That you would make it feel so real.”
Reluctantly, Buck turns his head, just enough to look at Eddie’s face. “Maddie made you do it?”
“Yeah.” It sounds more like a sigh of relief than a word, and Eddie’s shoulders drop a bit. “But don’t hate her. It’s all on me and my fear of this stupid auction.”
This catches enough of Buck’s attention, that he’s turning to fully face Eddie again. “Can we circle back to why you were so desperate to not be auctioned?” he asks, crossing his arms.
“And do you want to circle back to you having feelings for me?”
Buck looks up, like he’s rolling his eyes, but he’s rather running away from Eddie’s expression. “Well, if the last few days proved anything, it’s that I shouldn’t be talking about it.” He runs a hand through his hair, shifting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, where to hide. “I made it all awkward.”
Eddie’s head tilts, like he’s connecting dots. Buck hates how easily Eddie’s face can distract him from the anger and the fears. “The date was awkward because I thought you didn’t want it.”
“I thought you didn’t want it.”
“I asked you.”
“Yeah, for practice. To mock me.”
Eddie huffs out a breath, but it’s humorless. “I’m pretty sure Maddie’s plan was to mock me.”
Buck blinks. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens again.
“Wait, are you saying you would go on a real date with me? But you’re—” he cuts himself off, gesturing vaguely in Eddie’s direction like it explains all of it. But you’re Eddie. and But you’re far beyond my dreams. But you’re not an option.
“You know why I asked Maddie to buy me off the auction?” Eddie starts, leaning back against the table’s edge. His voice is quieter, but it catches Buck’s attention easily. “Because I decide I’m not gonna do it any longer—pretend that it’s alright, that I don’t dread the prospect of another date with a woman. And I told Maddie this much, and she agreed, but her additional fee, because of course I paid her everything back, but the additional condition was that I ask you for help, like it’s a real date. That we go on one, even if it’s just to pretend. And I didn’t see the point in it, because why would you agree? It’s a weird thing to ask. I don’t know what Maddie was trying to prove, but I think she did it pretty successfully. Because you agreed, and you got so committed to it, and you were having so much fun, it looked genuine, and I got to watch you play into it, and maybe Maddie’s plan all along was to make me realize that—”
His eyes lift up to meet Buck’s and Buck stops breathing. “What?” he whispers, takes a step closer.
“That I was in love with you all this time.”
Eddie’s so close now, and Buck’s ears are ringing but he’s basking in the sense of suffocation, the proximity. He never wants to leave. He watches Eddie’s eyes drop to his lips, either he’s waiting for Buck’s answer or for a kiss, but Buck’s mind is still catching up, so he does neither. Instead he moves an inch away to look Eddie in the face properly as he asks, “For the record, you’re not practising right now, right?”
A flicker of surprise passes through Eddie’s face before he lets out a snort. The next moment he’s cupping Buck’s face and pulling him into a kiss.
Buck is caught by surprise by the warmth of Eddie’s mouth, but his muscle memory kicks in, because how many times has he thought about the idea of kissing Eddie Diaz? And none of his imaginations ever came close to the real thing. Because Eddie’s kissing him like he means it, like he’s hungry, like he’s been thinking about it, too. And Buck doesn’t plan to stay behind so he replies just as ferociously, letting their tongues meet, and grabbing Eddie by the waist to pull him even closer, flush to his own body.
They stumble back to the table at some point, under Buck’s force. It feels like they’ve been going for hours and Buck’s lungs are seizing, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. Eddie doesn’t share the sentiment, apparently, because he moves away and even giggles, when Buck chases him.
“You still think I need help with kissing?” Eddie teases, a smirk playing on his face that makes him three times more attractive than Buck has ever known possible. He has half a mind to remember what Eddie’s talking about.
“I think I need to check some more,” he says and leans closer again. This time Eddie lets him, and kisses back slower, gentler, so, so earnest, his fingers tangling in Buck's hair. When they part for breath once more, it’s Buck who’s giggling, the immense joy slowly spilling over as it really reaches him—the idea that this is real. “Nope, still not sure you’re ready.”
At that Eddie laughs, out loud, fully, honestly, and it’s beautiful and Buck steals it with another kiss, then another, and another, until they’re both just grinning into each other’s faces.
“I love you, too,” Buck says at last, when he has enough breath and thought capacity to form a sentence.
If it’s possible, Eddie’s face lights up even more. He places one more peck on Buck’s lips and looks up into his eyes.
“Maddie might’ve been right about this,” he replies. Buck feels his fingers trace the back of his neck.
“I guess she was right about a lot of things.”