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Ian Bradley is just getting off a 12-hour shift from hell, and he’s craving a pistachio latte.
Normally, he loves his job, it’s his reason to get up in the morning. But some days, the minutes seem to drag on, and the patients seem to decline no matter what he does for them, and the health care system seems to work against him.
Yes, he did his job, but he doesn’t feel like he actually helped anyone today.
Which is why, instead of hitting the gym like he usually would after a shift, he’s decided to head to the small out-of-the-way cafe that's recently got him hooked on their drinks. He deserves a little sweet treat after the night he’s had.
When he gets there, there’s a short line at the counter. A blonde mom and her two teenage daughters, who are still hemming and hawing at the drink menu, and a man who looks a little familiar to Ian. Actually, really familiar. He’s tall, dark-haired, well-built. Handsome. Great ass. Maybe he's an actor? It is LA, after all.
Curiosity gets the better of him, and so, Ian taps him lightly on the arm. “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but do I know you?”
The man turns to look at him, and his eyes flash with recognition. He looks Ian up and down, disbelieving for a second. Then he smiles and sticks a hand out for Ian to shake.
“Eddie Diaz. Paramedic. We both responded to a call with that little boy, the-”
“The laryngeal cleft,” Ian slaps a hand to his forehead as it all comes back. “Jonah. God, that’s right, I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” he grabs Eddie’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “I’m Ian, pleasure to meet you.”
Eddie huffs a little laugh, seeming delighted. “Yeah, you were amazing, man. Saved that kid’s life. I’m a little surprised you remember me. There was a lot going on back there.”
Their hands are still mid-shake.
Well, if ever an opportunity to flirt were to present itself, this is it.
Ian smirks, turning up the charm. Instead of dropping Eddie’s hand, he loosens the pressure and just holds it gently.
“Yeah, well, I tend to take notice when someone is noticing me,” he winks. That line usually works.
Eddie freezes, dropping Ian's hand.
Ian blinks. Uh-oh. Did he get his signals crossed? But there’s no way. That doesn’t happen to Ian, his gaydar has always been impeccably accurate!
“Next! Step down please,” says the harried barista, who seems to be a little annoyed after the encounter with the wishy-washy teens and their demanding mother.
Eddie is still frozen, so Ian takes the lead, and steps down to order. “Two pistachio lattes for me and my new friend here,” he says to the barista, as smoothly as he can. “With oatmilk, please.”
That snaps Eddie out of his stupor quickly enough. “No, no. I can’t let you do that man, I was just gonna get a black coffee,” he argues.
“Trust me, the pistachio lattes here are amazing. Way better than plain old black coffee,” says Ian, hoping to persuade him.
Now he sees what’s going on here. Eddie isn’t in the habit of going after things he wants. Well, Ian can try to help with that.
Eddie hesitates for a second. The barista is losing her patience. “So two pistachio lattes with oatmilk or...”
“Uh, yeah, th-that works,” Eddie concedes.
“You won’t regret it,” promises Ian, flashing him a smile.
He gives his name for the order, taps his phone to pay and leaves a 20% tip that hopefully brightens the barista’s day. He really wants these lattes to be good. They’re instructed to wait at the end of the counter for their drinks.
“Thanks for the coffee,” says Eddie after a moment. His cheeks are a little red, but he still manages to make eye contact, which Ian finds impressive. And a little endearing. He’ll give the guy a break.
“No problem. And, uh, sorry if I made you uncomfortable just now. I just thought-”
Eddie cuts him off. “Uh, no, you didn’t. Make me uncomfortable, that is." He takes a deep breath. "I-I am. What you thought,” he says awkwardly. “Just, uh, still getting used to it.”
Ian raises an eyebrow, interested.
“Well, I have a minute," he answers. "Let’s get you used to it,” says Ian, hoping to sound reassuring and calm. It seems like Eddie could use a dose of the comforting bedside manner he prides himself on.
“Order for Ian!” shouts the barista, who actually offers him a smile this time. That’s a definite improvement.
They pick up their drinks and Ian gestures to a small table for two in the corner of the cafe. There’s some soft moody indie music playing, but the cafe is quiet enough that they can talk.
When they’re both seated, Ian begins.
“So,” he starts, “This is new for you?”
“...Yes and no,” says Eddie after a pause, staring at the cup currently warming his hands. He hasn’t tried his latte yet, Ian notices.
“I mean, I was married to a woman," Eddie continues. "Have only ever been with women, even though something always felt... off. Like I was just going through the motions.”
“So you felt like you had to... perform,” guesses Ian. He gets it.
“Exactly,” nods Eddie, looking up. “And recently, I’ve just... gotten tired of it. The expectation that I’ll eventually love them... that way. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to spend my whole life pretending.” He finally takes a small pull from his cup, and Ian watches as his eyes go wide with amazement.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is amazing,” raves Eddie, looking at his cup incredulously.
“Told you, man. Gotta try new things.”
“I think that’s what I’m trying to do," says Eddie solemnly. "I don’t want to get stuck.”
Ian smiles. “Well, I would cheers to that, but I think it’s bad luck to do that without alcohol,” he says, dangling his cup from side to side with two fingers. “Which is why I think you should let me take you to dinner, and we can fix that.”
“Ian...” Eddie says, sounding a little stunned. His face and neck are cherry red. “God, I’m really flattered. It’s just..” he trails off.
“There’s already someone else,” Ian guesses, for the second time. He needs to stop finishing Eddie’s sentences, especially if they’re not going to be dating. But he can’t help it. The guy is just too cute.
“Maybe. I mean, I hope. He’s going through something right now. It might be weeks, months... hell, years before we’re in a place where both of us are ready to do something about it, but...” he shakes his head. “I can’t think about anyone else right now,” he admits.
“You’re in love with the guy,” surmises Ian. Damn, that’s a shame, he thinks. Or well, it’s beautiful actually, but Ian might have to order a pastry after this to console himself about his continuing singledom.
“I’m sorry, Ian. You seem like a really amazing guy. You’re um. Very a-attractive,” Edde stutters out. “You’re a great nurse, and you can deadlift 300lbs. Not too shabby.”
“Wait, how do you know my deadlifting PR?” asks Ian with a tilt to his head.
“Harry, May’s brother, might’ve shown me your instagram profile,” says Eddie sheepishly. “By the way, I’m pretty sure Ravi thinks you’re his competition.”
Ian bursts out laughing so suddenly that the few people in the cafe turn to look at them. He thinks back to the interaction at the firehouse in a brand new light. “You can let Ravi know I’m not interested in any competition. Unless it’s with the guy who stole your heart,” he jokes.
Eddie chuckles softly. “He’s gonna win every time, man. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t actually sound sorry, though. He sounds smitten. Ian likes it.
“Hey, well, it was worth a shot. I’m glad we got to talk, Eddie.”
“Me too. I should, uh, be getting back to him. But I’ve definitely gotta bring him one of these lattes. He’ll love ‘em.”
“Here, take mine, I didn’t touch it,” offers Ian, holding out his cup. It’s still hot.
“A-Are you sure? Let me get you something else.”
“No man, I’m good,” he assures Eddie, and he’s surprised to find that he means it. His sugar craving has passed, and he wonders if it was because he was able to help someone today after all.
Eddie takes the cup from Ian’s outstretched hand. “Thanks, Ian. Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
With that, Eddie leaves the cafe, the little overhead bell jingling to signal his departure. Ian takes a second, stands, and leaves shortly after. He’s gonna go to the gym after all.
***
Eddie makes it back to Buck’s place a few minutes later. He juggles both lattes in his arms in order to dig out his key, and manages not to spill either drink as he unlocks the front door.
“Hey Buck, I’m back. Got you something,” he calls out, though he doesn’t need to look far. Buck is on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He’s looking a lot better, still in recovery, but the worst of his symptoms have passed. He’s got a good color to his skin, he's not hunched over in constant pain anymore, and he even manages to crack a smile every now and then when Eddie coaxes one out of him.
“Oh yeah?” Buck asks curiously, eyebrows drawing together. “What’s the special occasion?”
“Just tried something new, wanted you to try it too.” He hands Buck one of the drinks, their fingers brushing with the action. He doesn’t immediately withdraw his hand.
“Eddie Diaz, trying something new?”
“You better get used to it,” he shrugs with a smile.