Work Text:
Ravi is having a great day. There is genuinely nothing that could dampen his mood. He woke up next to May, they had strawberry muffins for breakfast, and then went to get matcha from the corner coffee shop, before separating to go to work.
The sky seems to be on board with a good day. The sun is happily smiling at the few clouds, warming every step he takes.
Even the air at the station feels lighthearted as he walks in. He can almost smell the precipice of a good shift. He rounds the corner and hears laughter coming from the loft. The good mood is all-encompassing, and Ravi is unbeatable. All teammates are healthy and happy; there is no chainsaw chasing; even Buck has calmed his efforts to dismantle Ravi’s mental stability.
He takes the stairs by two, for once more than happy to see his coworkers. No- His friends. Yes, this bunch of firefighters has caused him incredible detriment to health, pain, and suffering, but in his good spirits, he can admit he truly loves these idiots.
The 118 is sitting around the table. Chim is working on his computer, or at least pretending to do so, while everyone knows he’s playing the New York Times games. Hen is nursing a cup of coffee, reading a book. Harry is eating different fruits from a plate and intently listening to Buck’s and Eddie’s discussion, nodding like he understands. Buck and Eddie have their chairs turned towards each other, fully immersed in some sort of debate.
“Good morning,” Ravi greets the group, with just that little extra skip to his step.
Chim, Hen, and Harry lift their heads, and all acknowledge him back, with nods, waves, or their own ‘good-mornings.’ Buck and Eddie barely see him, still arguing.
That is completely fine. Two homoerotic best friends won’t kill his mood. actually them ignoring him is probably for the best.
Ravi is almost grabbing his chair, so close to sitting down and starting his own peaceful activity to continue his serenity, but then-
“Hey, Ravi,” Buck engages eye contact with him. And oh, no. Nothing truly good has started with Buck saying, ‘Hey, Ravi.’
He measures all his possibilities.
Faking his death: not enough resources with no time to prepare.
Making a run for the stairs: could be doable, but is it worth all the effort and the explanation? Probably not.
Saying the ‘Q-word’: No!
Surely, Buck has grown a lot in the time since he last ‘Hey, Ravied’ him into considering early retirement. Surely, this is nothing so bad or incredibly dumb to destroy the beautiful frame of mind that exists in this moment.
He takes a bracing breath, nothing can unsettle him.
“Yes, Buck?”
“You watch F1, right?”
So maybe Ravi hasn’t given Buck enough credit. He loves F1 and loves talking about it. This shouldn’t and really couldn’t be bad.
“Yes.”
“Right, I remember you talking about it. So could you settle this for Eddie and me? Who is the better driver overall, Max or Carlos? And we’re not talking about stats, like number of wins or podiums, but like if they had the same cars, and their personalities and stuff?” Buck explains, moving his hands in the air and pointing expressively between him and Eddie.
Here’s the thing, Ravi really does love talking about F1 and enjoys discussing the drivers, just like any other fan. Unfortunately, when it comes to these two dum-dums, it’s never as easy as objectively assessing their favorite drivers.
Ravi promised himself he wouldn’t let anything distract his peace of mind today, so he should really walk away or present his case. Definitely not ask the next question, that he already probably knows the answer to. Because Buck and Eddie are nothing if not predictable in their support, favorites, and self-sacrifice.
And look, Ravi knows that once his suspicion is confirmed, his peace of mind will be gone in the wind, but there’s a morbid fascination with the level of obliviousness these two share.
“Just out of curiosity, who is your favorite driver and who is Eddie’s?”
“Mine is Sainz, Verstappen is Eddie’s.”
Inner Peace. Inner Peace.
“Again, just curious, why are those two specifically your faves?”
“Well, I like Carlos’ intelligence, like he’s really level headed and also adaptable, it’s impressive,” Buck says, like it’s the most obvious answer. Ravi takes a deep breath to calm himself. He expected an answer in this direction.
“Oh, really. That’s it? No other reason?” He really tries to keep his voice level.
“Yeah, really. I mean, he has other talents, and he’s super handsome, but those are the key ones, I think.” Buck might sound confused, but Ravi is furious. The ‘super handsome’ really tipped him over. He’s done. He is done. With both of them, because he doesn’t need to ask Eddie, to know his answer would so oblivious to what is really going on.
“Are you hearing this shit, Hen?” He laughs incredulously.
“I don’t know anything about F1, Ravi. Are you okay? You seem kinda stressed out about this,” she responds.
“Am I okay? Am I okay? Today was going perfectly, and now I lost my inner peace, because THEY are OBLIVIOUS!” Ravi knows he’s making a scene, but once he starts, he can’t and honestly won’t stop.
“My beloved Henrietta, let me explain to you something. Buckley here says his favorite driver is his favorite because he’s smart, which is a perfectly acceptable reason, right? If I asked the same question to Diaz, he’d probably say something about generational talent and bravery.” Based on Eddie’s vague shrug of his shoulders, he’d say he hit the nail on that one. “Again, a perfectly valid reason, RIGHT?”
For dramatic purposes, he looks around, as if it were a genuine question. He now has the attention of the entire 118, which is probably for the best.
Hell yeah, let them all hear about this tomfoolery.
“Wrong! Let me break it down for you, my dear non-F1 friends. Buckley’s favorite driver is a Hispanic, athletic dude with luscious brown hair, brown doe-eyes, and strong, lean muscles. Don’t forget he called him super handsome.”
Buck chokes on air.
“But it’s not just the physical aspect, is it? No, he was also once described as ‘the ghost of McLaren,’ and that he was, and I quote: “lightly brushed by melancholy,” it almost sounds like they’re calling him gloomy.”
Buck and Eddie side-eye each other.
“But that’s not who he is, not fully, at least. If you get to know him, he’s the goofiest of them all. He is kind and compassionate, yet still unafraid to stand his ground. He is truly one of the most professional drivers, and most, if not all, other drivers respect him because of it. He stays calm under pressure and makes split-second strategic decisions that put actual strategists to shame. He is also incredibly loyal, you won’t catch him shit-talking his teammates or his teams, taking everything in stride, and focusing on himself.”
Buck’s smile grows soft.
“Sometimes it makes you wonder if it’s because of his upbringing. It couldn’t have been easy growing up knowing everyone sees you dad as a hero, but you never hear him speak ill of him, he’s known to love his family, especially his two sisters. But he’ll always live with the presence of his dad’s shadow, no matter his own success, he just had to learn to find his own place in the world.”
Now it’s Eddie who is blankly gaping at him.
Ravi takes a breath as Hen shoves a bottle of water near him, which he appreciatively takes a sip from, before continuing.
“Now let us examine Edmundo’s choice. He prefers the whitest guy imaginable, with his light brown hair, bordering on blonde, piercing blue gaze, and muscles that are more functional than exhibitionary, but functional they absolutely are, aren’t they, Eddie? There is just something about a broad back and big arms that makes you crazy.”
Eddie turns to an exceptional shade of red.
“He is mostly known for his reckless driving and behavior, although it should be noted that with time, experience, and guidance, he slowly outgrew this, and is now more responsible, even if he tends to explode with emotions from time to time. When you see him drive, you can’t be anything but mesmerized by the pure talent he exudes, it truly seems like he was made for this career.”
Eddie shoots a look of what can only be described as adoration towards Buck.
“Or maybe it’s not talent, but pure determination. You see, his childhood environment wasn’t the best, but at least he always had his sister, whose kids he adores by the way. And you have to admire him because he could have become bitter after that experience, but instead, he channeled it into helping the new generation. And -it’s really important to me that you hear this- he didn’t let this stop him from becoming, the best, as he calls it, ‘a bonus dad’ to his partner's kid from a previous marriage, I swear to god everytime I see them interact, my heart grows three sizes, you can see the genuine love he has for that kid.”
Sadly, Ravi only gets about a second to appreciate the Buckley-Diaz gaping reaction because Hen absolutely loses it, drawing his attention as she doubles over in laughter. Harry is just kind of stunned looking between the others. Chim is really trying to remain impartial as the captain, but the corners of his mouth are betraying him.
“Are you done, Ravi?” Chim asks, amusedly.
“They were each other’s first teammates. Now I’m done.”
Eddie takes a steadying breath and chances a look at Buck, who looks like he’s considering jumping over the railing from the loft. His leg is bouncing up and down, and his stressed eyes make him seem like a caged animal. When Eddie realizes that Buck is panicking, he bumps his knee into Buck's.
Buck turns his full attention to Eddie, trying to force air into his lungs at a normal pace. Even Ravi can see, from this far away, the anxious question mark in Buck’s look. Eddie smiles at him and bumps their knees again. Ravi knew they were weirdly connected, but he did not anticipate these small actions to wash over Buck like a calming blanket. His leg stops its assault on the ground beneath, and his shoulders slump down. Buck smiles back at Eddie.
Now it’s Ravi who is gaping at the scene before him. Without words, Eddie not only managed to calm down Buck, but they also formed a bubble around each other, as if no one was present in their vicinity.
Oh, absolutely not. They don’t get to make this into a lovely moment, they ruined Ravi’s day. They have to pay.
“Actually, one more thing to add. They call Carlos ‘El Matador’, because he was the only one to stop Max -the Red Bull driver- from breaking some record. You know only one with the ability to tame him.”
And that breaks the bubble immediately, both turning their heads so fast it’ll be a wonder if they don’t get whiplash. Eddie’s eyes are fighting for their life to stay in his head. Buck guffaws, stammering out a response, something along the lines, “I don’t.. Eddie doesn’t…”
See, Ravi has a good day now. This is pure entertainment, thank you very much. Nothing and no one can take his enjoyment from him.
“You know, Eddie, one of Carlos’ best wins happened just two weeks after he got his appendix removed, so you know, let us know if that happens, maybe it will finally move things along.”
Ravi expected more stammering, gufawing and jitters, not Eddie to freeze completely.
“I already got my appendix removed…” well that slightly dampens Ravi’s joke, but whatever, it’s not like he doesn’t have his stash full of teasing material after today.
“I had it removed…” Eddie tries again. “Two weeks before I joined the 118…”
Motherfucker!