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Eddie knew there was a problem the second Buck showed up on his doorstep that night. 

Eddie had answered the door post dance-session, pants nowhere to be found, staring at a dejected looking Evan Buckley. As it would turn out, Tommy (a certain…controversial character in Buck and Eddie’s relationship) had freshly broken up with him, and the first thing Buck had done was go see Eddie and share a drink on his couch together. 

That was close to a month ago now, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been feeling…strange. 

He couldn’t quite explain it, but he knew that that feeling wasn’t something he wanted to stick around. It made his stomach flip at unexpected times, and his heartrate would rise more than usual it seemed every time he went into work. He felt like a confused teenager, and the worst part was, there was absolutely no explanation he could think of. Strange was an understatement. 

He couldn’t say he’d ever felt this way before. Sure, he’d felt nervous. He was always nervous. But this was closer to a fluttery sort of nervousness. A fight or flight, jittery nervousness that made his knees weak and his mind cloudy. 

Usually, this was something he’d talk to Buck about. Buck, especially nowadays, seemed to know him better than anyone. There was an unspoken trust there, especially after all they’d been through together. The issue keeping his mouth shut, however, was directly related to Buck, and Eddie didn’t want to admit to himself why. 

It began right after Buck confessed his breakup with Tommy. Eddie remembered it well. Buck had seemed…off, to say the least, which wasn’t uncommon for someone who had just been broken up with, but Buck was a force of nature. Compared to his previous breakups, this felt foreign. It felt important, in a way the others hadn’t before. 

“I just thought he saw me for me, you know? Not as a relationship, but as a person,” Buck had said. And, yeah, that was different. 

Eddie remembered the night, not too far before this one, in which Buck had first told him about Tommy. Nervousness was still there, but it was a relieved kind of anxiety, especially after he broke the news. Buck’s tone was engulfed in truth that night. It was revolutionary. 

In comparison, his openness on both nights was evident, but in two largely contrasting ways, both caused by Tommy. Tommy. Eddie didn’t know how to feel about that. 

On the night of the breakup, it was almost as if Buck’s openness was manifesting in the way of a crater in his chest, right by his heart; his honesty. He’s not sure when or how they both went to sleep, but it was post a case of beer and a very, very long time of talking. Or, more so, listening, predominantly on Eddie’s part. Buck had been so vulnerable; he had looked so cheated. 

Thinking back on it, Eddie had noted the unfamiliar stir right by his stomach as he looked into Buck’s eyes. 

Eddie was having a very unexpected day.

He’d woken up like normal (as normal as possible without Christopher, anyway), made breakfast, ran errands, the works. 

There was a boy who had gotten himself stuck in a drainpipe for an unfinished pool. Eddie would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t been reminded of the mudslide, a whole other topic in itself. Even that, though, was something he could push past, because they saved the boy. Everyone was okay. 

Until he’d seen his priest at a cafe, made the terrible mistake of assuming he was hitting on him, and ended up talking with him about his prior confession. Eddie had tried to ignore how he felt about that, for the most part, focusing on instead the advice he had given Eddie. 

Do something that brings you joy. Or something like that. 

Afterwards, it was only perfect for his unexpected day to turn into an unexpected night. 

When he got home, he thought over what the priest had said. Almost as if by muscle memory, he changed his clothes and switched on the most joy-inducing music he could think of. His epic improv dance night was certainly one for the books. Maybe the priest was onto something after all, but he’d never admit that. 

Eddie still thinks it probably would’ve gone on all night, had it not been for the sharp tap of hardwood from the front of the house. Making his way over, he didn’t bother to cover up or change. It was oddly…freeing, in a way, even though in the corner of his mind, he wondered if he’d regret it later.  

Regardless, he opened the door to Buck, outfitted in a deep green t-shirt, a colour Buck usually didn’t wear. 

Not a word was exchanged as Buck took his strides to the couch, beer in hand and an unsettling look on his face. 

This wasn’t new, persay. Buck found some kind of comfort in Eddie’s house that Eddie didn’t see himself. To Buck, his house was an escape from whatever shit he was dealing with. Eddie thought it was a little crazy, there being nothing special about the four walls of his dim-lit living room, but he didn’t dare comment on it, ever. Not when Buck felt that it was what he needed. 

Eddie shrugged, taking two steps over the couch and promptly sinking into the space next to Buck. 

They shared their solitude, two sides of a similar coin, two ends of a familiar story. It was…weird, but good, to say the least. Eddie wondered why he hand’t realised that this, the breakup-blues, was infact this awful for anyone involved. Even just seeing Buck this way…it was as if a match had set off a chain reaction of fuses in his body, each one calming his dance-high and lighting the flame of curiosity and twinges of something else. 

At some point, not long after they’d claimed the couch as their spot, the music faded away to static; background noise, until finally shutting off completely. The silence was heavy. There was no doubt they could both feel it, weighing on their shoulders, tightening the bubble around them. It didn’t feel bad, just…different. Real. 

He’d felt it before, this kind of closeness. In hospitals and small spaces. 

He’d sit there all night if that’s what he thought Buck wanted. But they both knew better. Something had to give. 

“Hey Buck?”

No audible response. Just a turn of the head, in typical Buck fashion. Saying it with the eyes. 

“I’ll sit here all night with you,” Eddie continued. He didn’t really need to say it; Buck knew he would. Still, “but at some point you’re gonna have to say something, and I have a feeling that you’re holding it back.” 

He didn’t expect Buck to tell him. He didn’t expect anything–that’s something he’d learned in all his years of knowing Buck; he was spontaneous–but he wasn’t going to be surprised if he did. It stroked his ego a bit, the way Buck trusted him. Yes, he trusted easily, maybe too easily, but he knew that their trust went further. They had years of trauma to fall back on together, and years of friendship to revel in. 

Buck tapped his fingers on his beer glass and set it down on the coffee table. There was a New York City coaster underneath it; Buck always told Christopher they’d go there someday. They spent hours researching just the city skyline. 

Eddie heard a sharp, soft inhale from beside him, before–

“Tommy broke up with me.” 

He blames Tommy, really, for making Buck feel that way, and by extension, making Eddie feel this way, because ever since that night, the strange feeling had only begun to grow throughout his entire body. 

In the week following the breakup, Eddie observed as the 118 slowly trickled in their condolences. Buck, being the man that he is, thanked them all, but commented no further on the subject. He had always been the kind to deal with his problems all on his own, talking a bit but never enough, despite Eddie’s disapproval of such coping mechanisms. 

He’d also always been the kind to tell Eddie when things were truly a problem, though, so a certain level of concern was omitted from Eddie’s conscience. 

While the strange feeling was, for the most part, an ignorable one, it began to crash down one afternoon after a long call. 

They didn’t get breaks often in their line of work, so whenever they did, they took it in stride. A break meant sleep. It meant comfort. It meant gossip.

Everyone was tired, collectively deciding to do nothing but sit in their respective spots in the firestation. For obvious, comfort reasons, Eddie had picked the couch, not too far from the table Buck and Hen were sitting at. 

The only flaw in that plan was that he could hear their conversation clearly. Much too clearly. 

“I guess I should’ve known Tommy wouldn’t be the one, you know?” Buck half-whispered. Involuntarily, Eddie’s ears pricked at the mention of his name, and he cursed himself for doing so. Ew, Eddie. Get a grip.

Buck didn’t stop there, though, and Eddie couldn’t help but continue listening. “I mean, he didn’t know everything about me, and I barely knew much about him. I just…wanted it to work. Is that selfish?” 

Eddie knew that he probably shouldn’t have been listening, but he couldn’t help it. The strange feeling was taking over his entire moral compass. 

“It’s not selfish, Buck. It’s a valid feeling to want to preserve a relationship,” Hen replied, as classy as ever. Hen had become a rock for Buck in the past few weeks, Eddie noticed. Not that Buck wasn’t talking to Eddie just as much, but Hen…she had the experience. She had the advice. She had the stable relationship. Eddie was zero for three.  

Eddie stilled on the couch in all his inconspicuous glory as he listened to Buck go on. “But shouldn’t I have, you know, noticed, or something? Aren’t you supposed to feel it before someone breaks up with you?” 

Unknowingly, Eddie began to mull Buck’s question over for himself. Had he felt that before? Had others felt it with him? He didn’t like this. He didn’t like his mind and his feelings and his human nature.

Hen cocked her head, pursing her lips in a quzzical fashion, pointedly saying, “Have you felt that a lot in the past?”

Buck thought about it, but only for a second. “Yeah, kinda.” 

That was interesting. To Eddie, at least, who spent almost every day with him for years. They talked about partners and relationships, and he’s vaguely sure they’d touched on this as well, but not in this way. He tried not to take it personally. Hen just had that kind of effect on people.

Hen sighed then, shifting her weight. “Buck…you wanted it to work. That’s a valid thing to want. What’s important now is moving past it.” 

Buck didn’t seem to miss a beat. Maybe he had been self reflecting after all. “I think I have, kind of. Not entirely, obviously. But I wouldn’t be opposed to trying something new. Especially with my heightened sexuality nowadays.”

Hen smiled. It was only then that Eddie realised he had turned his body to face their conversation, eyes on the two of them. Well. So much for being discreet. 

What Hen had said, however, was true–Buck was different. Good different. Eddie wasn’t sure what version of him they were on at this point, but he didn’t mind it. He’d grown a long way from the day they first met, that much was clear to anyone. Something Eddie had noted, though, were the parts of Buck that didn’t change. Like his sense of care. His humility. His smile. His laugh. 

Hen broke his train of thought then, saying, “That’s not a bad mindset, just…you know, be careful.” 

No matter how many times they would say it, Buck never really seemed to take that advice to heart. 

Just then, as convenient as ever, the bell rang. 

- 

Something new. 

Buck had said that maybe he was ready for something new. 

Eddie had been pondering those words since his shift had ended, which was…what, eight hours prior? He tried to ignore it, grabbing a beer from the fridge and sitting on the couch both him and Buck had shared just weeks ago.

God, why couldn’t he shake this feeling? This weird…strange, bubbly feeling that corrupted his entire body at any mention of Buck’s breakup with Tommy. He couldn’t classify it if he tried. Granted, it’s known that he’s never been the best with his feelings. He’s always been the kind to think before he acts, yes, but oftentimes not think enough. 

Regrets and mistakes, however? There’d always be room for those in Eddie’s head. It was impossible not to mull over past failure. 

People tell him he’s punishing himself for all sorts of stuff. Eddie thinks they’re full of shit. 

Just because he picks juice over water or recognises his mistakes doesn’t make it punishment, it just makes it what he deserves. 

Picking his brain over a breakup he was not involved in is also just what he deserves, apparently. 

Really, the breakup is none of his business. Absolutely none. What Buck does, or who Buck does, is definitely not something that his friend gets to comment on, so no way was he ever going to bring this up to Buck. Not in a million years. 

He would just have to work it out on his own. Which was going great, by the way. So much progress. 

It was like this often with him. Anytime a block or a wall came between Eddie and Peace, he would set up camp and live with it. Healthy? No, but when was that ever his goal? Still, his mind still wandered…and wandered…looking for answers. Solutions. 

Eddie’s mind backtracked to the exact moment Buck broke the news. What was it that he said? 

“Tommy broke up with me.” 

Yeah, nothing ground-breaking. So it hadn’t been something Buck inherently did. Fuck wandering for solutions.

Damn. This really was completely Eddie’s problem. 

Why did it matter if Buck was with Tommy or not? The answer was clear: It didn’t. But Eddie’s feelings wouldn’t shake away. Why was this different than before? Why was Eddie acting this way–childish–now? It was a similar feeling to the one he had felt when Abby was still in the picture. Well, not in the picture exactly, but her residual effect was washed all over Buck. Eddie hated it. Breaking down the feeling as best he could, it started to feel more clear to him exactly what it was. 

He realised that yes, he had felt this way before, even if he couldn’t put a finger on when or where. But it had certainly happened. But what was it? 

Relief? Tranquility? None of it made any sense. 

Except one. 

Oh, God. 

Happiness.

That’s what he had been feeling this whole time. It was happiness. He was happy that Buck and Tommy broke up. 

Thoughts richocheted through his head at a mile a minute, partly due to the alcohol in his system, partly because he was a chronic overthinker. Only then, just then, did one thought stick its way out more than any other. 

Was he happy Tommy had broken up with Buck because he was a dude? 

There was no way this could possibly be happening to him. 

If he was homophobic, he would’ve known years ago, right? Or can that stuff, like, develop? And, if he was homophobic, then why didn’t he have a problem when Buck had come out to him in the first place? 

There was only one answer Eddie could think of. 

Repressed homophobia.

That had to be it. That had to be what he was feeling, because no other explanation made sense. Fuck, he was homophobic. How the hell was he supposed to deal with that? 

Hen and Karen were married, and he never had a problem with that. He knew plenty of gay people in the army! No one had ever made him feel this way before, so why now? Why with his best friend? The universe had a vendetta against him, he was sure. 

What was the expected course of action for this situation? He couldn’t exactly google “how to stop being homophobic towards my best friend and his ex” and fix it. 

He was no longer sitting on the couch. He was pacing through his kitchen, grabbing the counter, pivoting, and looking like a proper mental patient. 

And, oh God, how the fuck would he ever explain this to Buck?? 

He’d probably never speak to Eddie again. And that…that prompted the strange feeling to erupt a million times over. 

At this point, his head was too jumbled to think straight. Even walking out of the kitchen and into the living room or any part of the house, for that matter, made anything any better. When he saw the couch, all Eddie thought of was his and Buck’s neverending memories made there. When he started down the hallway, he was reminded of Chris. Even going back to the kitchen wasn’t safe, because that’s where Buck would be every night, trying some new, crazy recipe for Eddie to try. His house was full of Buck and his stupid, charming way of leaving a mark anywhere he goes. 

There was only one course of action he could pursue in this situation. Only one person he trusted enough to bring his very crippling, very sudden fear and realisation to.

He grabbed his keys and drove over to Hen’s house.

- 

Standing on the Wilson family doorstep, Eddie felt dumb as ever. 

He’d never felt more like an idiot in his life, actually. He also hadn’t really gone over the fact that Hen, as a gay person herself, may not exactly go over well with the fact that Eddie was homophobic. What if she was mad? What if she told Bobby, and got him fired? None of this was of immediate concern, though. All that was of immediate concern was Buck. 

Ringing the doorbell, Eddie nearly turned on his heels and ran. He probably would’ve if it’d been anyone else. 

The door opened, and there stood Hen, her face calm and not at all surprised by Eddie’s presence on her front step. She smiled, and greeted him warmly. “Hi, Eddie, what’s the occasion–”

“I think I’m homophobic.” 

If there was a human equivalent contest to “deer in headlights,” Eddie would’ve broken the world record and held first place. 

Oh God, Eddie thought. Here it comes. She’s going to tell me to get out and to never speak to her again. He waited for Hen to slam the door in his face. Or for lightning to strike him down (ha.) and take him out right then and there, whichever came first. 

None of that happened, however. Instead, Hen looked at him confused, but only for a moment before her face broke into a smile and she began to laugh. “You what?” 

Eddie stared at her, dumbfounded. What was humorous about his current situation? “It’s not funny! I’m scared!”

Hen’s smile had no intention of fading. “Okay, okay. Just–come inside. Sit at the table. I’ll be right back.” 

Mumbling something along the lines of “what the hell” and “stupid,” she disappeared into the house and left Eddie outside, looking like a wounded puppy, eventually trudging into the house and taking a seat at the dining table. 

When Hen emerged from the kitchen, she was holding two cups of coffee. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

Eddie layed his head down on the table in defeat. He really, really wished this weren’t happening to him. “I just told you.” He couldn’t repeat it. Especially not now that he was in the house. He was fairly certain that no one else was home, there being only one car in the driveway other than Eddie’s, but regardless. 

“Well, yeah, I heard that, but–” She paused and sniffed the air. “Eddie Diaz, did you drive here drunk?” Uh-oh. Eddie knew that voice. It was her “don’t piss off your mother” voice. It was meant for her own kids, but it had Eddie shaking right down to his feet. 

“It was one beer, I’m fine,” he grumbled. One beer? Yes. Fine? Jury was way out on that one. 

Hen pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Jesus. Just–drink your coffee. Hopefully that will help you get…whatever this is out of your system. Now, elaborate, what do you mean you think you’re homophobic?” 

See, now, that was the thing. He didn’t know what he meant. He knew it wasn’t good, but confusion is a strong provider, and it took control of all his body systems. 

“I mean I think I’m…” He hated saying it out loud. Or thinking about it, for that matter. “homophobic. Not sure how much clearer that can get.” 

Hen made eye contact with him then, and she looked incredibly over the fact that Eddie was really here, asking her for help. He can’t blame her. He’d be over himself too. “What prompted this?” 

God, Eddie wished he knew. “I don’t know.” Hen only stared at him. He knew he had to tell her more. “I’ve been feeling…strange ever since he and Tommy broke up.”

He didn’t even say Buck’s name, but Hen seemed to understand anyway. She leaned forward, as if making sure she heard him correctly. “You’ve been feeling…strange.”

“Yes.” His answer was firm, but he felt anything but. 

“About…Buck and Tommy’s breakup?”

“Yes.” Eddie could not do this. He was not strong enough. 

Hen, on the other hand, did not have the same feeling. She was, instead, pushing forth with the Mission: Figure Eddie Out agenda. Eddie has a working theory that, had Hen not become a firefighter, she would have been one hell of a therapist. Unfortunately for Eddie, that meant that every question she asked was meticulously targeted, and made him think. Horribly. 

“How have you felt about Buck’s previous relationships then? Did you feel…strange when he and Taylor broke up?”

Well. He hadn’t thought of that. 

Retracing his steps and memories of that time, he supposed that maybe, in some weird, totally completely different way, he did feel somewhat “strange” about their breakup. Kinda. Sorta. But it wasn’t the same. 

“But that was because they weren’t right for each other, and I knew Buck would be happier without her.” Saying it felt too controlling, so he added, “And I was right, so it’s fine.” A voice in his head seemed to cheer for him. Yay Eddie! You came to a conclusion!

“Do you think Tommy and Buck were right for each other?” 

That voice was immediately extinguished. 

“...No, I guess not,” Eddie replied. He was right again about that, though. They weren’t right for each other. Abby being Tommy’s ex-fiance should’ve sent any normal person running. Unfortunately and fortunately, Buck was not  typically a normal person.  

This response did not please the great overlord Henrietta Wilson, though. She did not seem impressed by this response, her weary look waning on Eddie. “So how is their breakup any different from any other breakup?” She asked, genuinely trying to push Eddie to some kind of conclusion with little results. 

“I don’t know, Hen.” Eddie could feel a headache coming on now. He was so tired of not knowing. He was tired of knowing, too. He was just tired. “That’s why I’m confiding in you, but if you’re not going to take this seriously, then just forget I said anything–” 

“Enough with the dramatics, Eddie,” Hen said, cutting him off. “I’m just trying to guage your true feelings.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “My true feelings are ones of terror, Hen. I can’t be homophobic if my best friend is bisexual.” Very true.

Hen did him one better, raising an eyebrow. “And you thought telling that to a lesbian would be better?” Also very true.

Eddie, fiddling with the full, cold coffee mug on the table, could feel both of their exasperation. “I thought you’d be able to help. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Oh, shut up. Here, how about I ask you this. Does my marriage to another woman make you uncomfortable or upset in any way?” 

And that caught Eddie off guard, because, what? His face recoiled and his eyes focused in on Hen. “Of course not. How could you even ask that?” 

“And does Buck’s attraction to men make you uncomfortable?” Hen asked, inching ever closer to the point. 

Eddie didn’t understand what she wasn’t getting. “No! Jesus–” 

“Then you’re not homophobic.” 

Eddie couldn’t explain it. She didn’t understand. It was different. “You don’t understand. I was–I felt–” He took a deep breath before finishing his statement, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take back what he was about to say. Here goes nothing.  “It was happiness, Hen. I was happy when Buck told me he broke up with Tommy.”

The bomb has been detonated. 

Or, that’s what Eddie thought this would feel like. 

But, when it came down to it, it wasn’t like that at all. 

The quiet that followed weaved through him, its simplicity calming his nerves in a way he couldn’t before. The confirmation had eradicated the anxious feeling that had been hiding in the depths of his chest, flaring and infecting until now. Saying it to someone else, sharing the burden–it helped. It was scary, sure, but weirdly freeing. The truth does set you free, it seems. 

“Oh my God, Eddie,” Hen said, jumping straight through his thoughts. 

Eddie sat up, alarmed. “What? What is it?” 

“Are you sure you want me to tell you?” 

He rolled his eyes at her. Obviously. “Yes. Jesus, Hen, please.”

Hen inhaled, deep and contemplative, as if searching her brain for how to word the sentence that came out of her mouth next. “You’re not happy that he broke up with Tommy because he broke up with a guy, you’re happy because he’s single.” 

When the meteor hit earth and wiped out all of the dinosaurs, all of the surviving organisms most definitely had a large “what the fuck” moment. 

Eddie, at that moment exactly, became a prehistoric organism. 

Where did she even get that idea? Surely not from any previous experiences. Surely not from examining Eddie’s current situation. His mind came to a full stop. He’d retaliate, but words did not seem to form at all. 

“No. That’s–no,” 

Hen laughed. Eddie could barely speak and Hen laughed. “Sorry you had to find out this way.” 

Eddie shook his head, knuckles white as they gripped the table. “I didn’t feel that way with Taylor, or Natalia, or anyone else.” 

Hen leaned back on her chair. She was having a great time with this, it seemed. Good for her. “I think you did. You just didn’t realise it until Buck made it clear that guys are on the table.” 

Prehistoric animal noises were all that Eddie could muster too, apparently. He wished he were the dinosaur. Dinosaurs surely didn't have to deal with this. But then again, dinosaurs were dead. Maybe that was the path he was headed down.

“That’s just–why would I care if he’s single? What does that have to do with this…” He still didn’t know what to call it. Relief? “Strange feeling.” That would work for the time being, he supposed. 

Hen clasped her hands together, bringing them to the table. “Okay, Eddie. Let me ask you something else, then.” Eddie nodded. Anything to help him not feel this way. 

“What do you look for in an ideal partner?”

Anything but that.

“Why is this relevant?”

Hen sighed. “Work with me here, please.”

Eddie’s eyes locked with Hen’s. To his surprise, she didn’t look the way he thought she would. She wasn’t…searching for anything. She was simply waiting to listen. Ultimately, he thought he might as well. Maybe she had a point. Or maybe he was halfway in the bottle. 

“Fine.” He took a longer, deeper breath, hoping the oxygen would reach his brain faster and calm him the fuck down. He hadn’t thought about that in a long time. “I guess, if I had to name some stuff, maybe I’d want someone who looks out for me. Someone who can confide in me and who I can confide in.” 

As soon as the words were out, they kept coming. Confessions he didn’t know he had. Feelings and wants that he never knew could come forth. 

“Someone to come home to. Someone I look at and don’t question why they’re there or who they are. Someone who’s just so, truly themselves. Someone honest. Someone caring. Someone who loves Chris. Someone who would take care of me even if everything was shit and the world was ending.” Only that all felt too serious, and so he added: “Or something like that. Maybe.” 

A strange kind of silence settled into his last word, and it made Eddie want to retract like a fucking turtle. 

He’s not used to this–the sharing thing. The emotional thing. Normally, whatever he was afraid of or concerned about would just rot in the back of his brain until it effectively blended in with the rest of his life. Only he can’t do that this time, because this is Buck we’re talking about. Buck, who would never do anything to hurt Eddie. Not in a million years. So this is the least Eddie can do: Figure his shit out. 

Hen takes a deep breath as her eyes carefully creep along Eddie’s face. “Eddie,” she says, like she’s softening a blow, “have you ever thought that maybe you’ve already met that person?”

Their perpetual gaps in silence continued, this time in the form of tentative eye contact. Sweat began to form on Eddie’s forehead, and his eyebrows furrowed. 

“What are you saying?” 

Hen took another sigh. Eddie wondered if she did that to calm hearself or stress out Eddie. Probably the latter. “I’m saying that Buck fits into every category you just listed.” 

Eddie faltered. “He’s my best friend.” 

“Is that all he is?”

Eddie paused. The answer was complicated. Of course Buck wasn’t just his best friend, that much was obvious, even if they never really talked about it. Buck was his person. His emergency contact. His kid’s legal guardian if anything ever happened to him. He was Eddie’s support. His lifeline. 

Eddie hadn’t known what that felt like until he met Buck. He was a walking back-up plan, a safety net, a security system. 

Ever since moving to LA, Buck had been there. He’d been a constant, through every turn and trial life threw at him. At the end of the day, Buck was there, even when he wasn’t. Even when they fought, he was there, in stress, in hate, in joy. 

And, God, was there so much joy. 

Him, Chris, Buck…all sat on the couch together, eating day-old pizza, Buck’s laugh filling the room, Chris’ smile infectious as ever, Eddie admiring his own little family…

Oh.

Oh.

It became clear, just then. The answer. 

“No.” 

Suddenly, everything about that conversation–the reason, the feelings he’d been having, everything–all felt completely idiotic. It was right in front of him the entire time. 

Since the moment they met–since the second Buck decided that they made a good team. It’s been there the whole time. The whole time. And somehow, in the middle of these revelations, Eddie was seeing clearer than he had been in months. Years, maybe. 

Buck always came to him first. Always. Christ–even when he broke up with Tommy! The first place he went to was Eddie’s house! And Eddie was always there. Always. How could he have been so blind? 

Chris loves him. Abuela loves him. 

I love him. 

“I’m in love with him.” 

Hen clapped as she stood from her seat. It was ridiculous. It was needed. “You’re in love with him alright!” 

Eddie, as opposed to his entrance into the Wilson household, now felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. “I must look like a real idiot right now, don’t I?” 

Hen smiled. “A little bit. But I can’t say I’ve never been through something similar.” 

Though it felt good to get off his chest, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what was supposed to come next in these situations. What was he supposed to do? “What am I supposed to do now?” 

“I can’t make that decision for you, Eddie, but I can give you a place to start; figure out what exactly it is you want. And talk to Buck.”  

Eddie stood up from his chair as Hen brought his virtually untouched coffee back to the kitchen. 

“I can’t tell him.”

Washing out the cups, she spoke, voice travelling behind her. “I’m not telling you to. But you need to talk to him. It’s not my place to tell you what to talk to him about.” Eddie took a deep breath and let her words overcome him, especially her last ones: 

“For the record, though, I’m almost sure he feels the same way.”

- 

Eddie didn’t go to sleep last night. 

Actually, he didn’t do much of anything other than sit and wonder and worry and lose his fucking mind.

He tried. Really, he did. He changed into a clean shirt and pants and brushed his teeth and texted Chris goodnight and got into bed before 10pm and it was all dandy and great until he started thinking and all of a sudden the shadows on the wall had opinions and even his own opinions had opinions and his head started spinning and he started spinning and sleep barely came only in flashes and…

Yeah. It wasn’t great. 

When he woke up that morning, he knew something was going to have to change. Whether it be with Buck, or with Eddie himself, something had to give. But operation: adjust to being in love with your best friend was not the easiest thing in the world, and Eddie needed time. The problem was, time in the firefighting industry is quite the luxury. Take it when you can, leave it when you don’t need it. Only now, when Eddie needed it, it wasn’t there.

Okay. No time. Need a plan. Okay. 

What’s that thing people say…

Five things you can see? Four things you can…oh, fuck it. 

Eddie would do the only thing he knew in complete certainty he could not mess up: Being an asshole. And sleep. 

- 

It started small, the avoidances. 

Splitting from Buck during assignments (“I’ll do this first, Buck. You take that on.”), “sleeping” more on his breaks, blasting music or reading so he would seem busy…the list continued. 

It was as if ever since his talk with Hen, a switch had just…flipped inside of him. Like he was given prescription glasses for his thoughts and feelings. His view of life was clearer. Buck had given him a clearer view of life. 

It had been a very eventual few days, from Eddie thinking he was homophobic to now being the complete antithesis: a gay, queer, whatever-you-want-to-call-it man in love with another queer man who just so happens to be his coworker and the most amazing human being to ever walk on God’s green earth. 

Eddie had also been imagining how much further his insanity about this subject had to progress before it turned into full blown psych ward material. He was probably already there, if he was being honest. And honestly was one thing that Eddie seemed to be coming to terms with a lot, lately. 

But what they don’t tell you about being in love is how awfully difficult it is. How difficult it was to watch Buck cook, and not simply sit there, eyes wandering towards his hands. Admiring his fingers, nimble. His knuckles appearing almost white as they wrapped around a pan handle, gripping a spoon with the other. How difficult it was to watch him talk and not space out, listening to his smooth voice, just rough enough that it blossomed through Eddie’s entire body. How difficult it was to watch his lips move while he rambled on and on about one topic or another, and not reach out to run his fingers across their soft pink colour. Not feel his supple skin writhe and jump beneath Eddies’ own. Not run his fingers up and down and around Buck’s body; his toned, ragged, beautiful body. How difficult it was to only observe, and not be able to touch. 

It was almost…embarassing. It would’ve been completely embarrassing if anyone knew. Hen did, of course, but she couldn’t be bothered to pay enough attention to Eddie’s shenanigans. She did look, though. Her fond smile made Eddie…wonder, to say the least. Wonder what it really would be like if he told Buck. 

Damn. He couldn’t tell Buck. Not ever. 

It was a horrible thing to think, but Eddie couldn’t shy away from it–telling Buck would ruin everything. He could rattle off the reasons. 

For one, they work together. That’s just like, a no-brainer. It’s an unspoken rule not to date people who could die with you every single day. Which brough him to his next point–Buck and Eddie see each other every. Single. Day. That made it impossible. And if he brough Chris into the equation…he couldn’t even think about it anymore. It just wouldn’t work. Nope.

No matter how much he wanted to grab his hand and pull him into a very dark corner and kiss his mouth until they both couldn’t breathe. No matter how much he wanted to hold his hand and link their ankles in the fire engine. No matter how much he wanted to just sit with him and watch him smile, sleep, breathe.

No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t. That was written in stone somewhere. 

He could feel his moral compass spin. 

On one hand, lying was never supposed to be the answer. Lying to Buck would just add a world of problems atop Eddie’s already world altering realisation. 

Not to mention the sliver of hope Eddie had that Buck could, maybe, feel the same way about him. Pictures of them holding hands and just…touching swarmed through his mind. 

On the other hand, he could ruin their friendship. They’d never talk again. He’d have to file for a transfer, or move away, or…he couldn’t even think through all the possibilities. What was morally correct didn’t correspond to what he wanted, but when had it ever? 

It was inevitable when Buck started catching on. 

“Eddie!” Buck’s voice echoed down the hallway. Eddie flinched. “Hey, Eddie, wait up!” 

One half of Eddie prayed (very out of character-ly), for some higher power to just..make him disappear. The other half, though, noticed how great Buck looked at running down the hallway to find him, and boy did he look tired, maybe he just came from the gym? Had he been working on his arms? Was he tired? Did he need a drink of water–

No. 

Stop it. 

“Hey Buck,” Eddie said, exasperated. His eyes wandered across Buck’s shoulders and the hem of his shirt, anywhere but his eyes. 

“Hey, has everything been alright with you lately? I just feel like I haven’t seen you that much lately,” Buck explained, and it made Eddie’s head spin. Why was he doing this? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Buck, but the truth…

The truth was so much worse. That’s why. 

Eddie shook off whatever feelings he was feeling in that moment and turned up the corners of his mouth. “All good, man. I’ll see you later, gotta…call abuela!” 

“Okay, uh…” Buck faltered, but Eddie didn’t stick around to hear the end of his sentence. 

This was going just great. 

–

He caught Eddie post-fake-nap on a particularly un-busy day. His fingers grasped his arm, not too firmly, but firm enough. Eddie let a breath escape him as Buck began to speak. 

“You’ve been being weird. Why?” His tone was wrapped in a question, but at its very core was hurt. Eddie could tell this had been bothering him for a while. 

It made him feel like shit. He wanted to tell him, just then, and make all of this nonsense stop. Tell him, I don’t want to be doing this. I love you. I love you so much it’s hard to look at you, or talk to you, or even breathe next to you. At the same time, he knew the rational side, and that had to take over, no matter how much Eddie didn’t want it to. 

He took a deep breath and turned around, brushing Buck’s hand off him. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Buck knew it was bullshit; he always knew. “Yes you do. Ever since me and Tommy broke up, you’ve been…distant, or something!” It was quiet, but only for a moment. Eddie kept his lips sewn shut as Buck continued, eyes pleading. “You have to tell me, Eddie. I’m not leaving until you do.” 

Eddie really wished he had become an actor instead of a firefighter; that would’ve made this much easier. 

Alas, he had not chosen the arts, and so he was stuck there, at that moment. He didn’t say a word. Not because he had nothing to say, but because if he were to open his mouth, it would probably only be rambles about the soft, golden curls covering Buck’s forehead, and how good they looked slightly unkempt. That, howeveer, would not have been appropriate, so Eddie opted for silence. 

Buck did not like that. “Are you working on a secret project or something? Do you have another job? I’m trying to figure you out, Eddie.” 

Eddie wanted to tell him. Fuck, he wanted to tell him more than anything. But he was frozen. If he had to choose between a fight or flight response, he’d do neither–he’d just stand there, forever, dust collecting on his sorry memory. Buck's piercingly blue eyes were fixed on Eddie’s face, and Eddie really hoped Buck couldn’t see the walls crumbling inside him. 

As soon as the moment began, it was over, and something in Buck's eyes shifted. 

In a quieter, smaller voice, Buck asked tentatively– “Or…are you…seeing someone?” 

No. No. Fuck. 

Fuck, that was the worst possible scenario he could’ve thought of. 

He didn’t even give Eddie time to respond. Damnit, Buckley. “If you’re seeing someone, please just tell me. You don’t have to tell me who she is or anything, it’s just…right now, it feels like you’re just avoiding me, like…” Buck inhaled, slow and deep, as if he were about to admit his darkest fear. When he opened his mouth again, Eddie hung onto every word as if his life depended on it. “Like you don’t want to be my friend anymore, or something.” 

Eddie’s face twitched at the word friend, and that was the wrong move. He watched as Buck’s face dropped, taking a step backwards, away from him. Away from Eddie. 

Shit. 

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.

I don’t want to be your friend. Friends don’t kiss, and touch, and all that gushy stuff. I don’t want to just be your friend. 

But, of course, Buck didn’t know that. 

Eddie, realising his mistake, yelled out for him. He had to explain–he had to say something. “Buck–wait!” 

Buck was done waiting, it seemed, and Eddie watched as he walked, far away from Eddie. “Whatever, Eddie. I’ll just…see you tomorrow.” His voice trailed off, and before Eddie knew it, he was out of sight, but never out of mind. 

Eddie only felt hollow. 

- 

As it turned out, Evan Buckley was a huge ass liar, because he infact did not see Eddie the next day. 

No one did, because he had called out of work on the grounds of being sick. 

Buck, who had fought to prove himself and his worth for years, not only to those around him but to himself, had called in sick to work for the first time in…forever. All because he thought Eddie was avoiding him. 

It was unacceptable. It was unthinkable. It was totally Eddie’s fault. 

But if he was being honest, if anyone should’ve been calling out of work, it should’ve been Eddie. Having multiple life changing realisations in the span of a couple days changes a man. No one knew about that, though. No one but Hen, who had been texting him all morning, even if they were in the same room.  

Hen

• You have to talk to him. He’s probably agonising over what he thinks he did wrong. 

• Seriously, Eddie. Man up. 

• I don’t want to blackmail you, but I will if I have to. 

The texts kept coming. Eddie couldn’t even be mad, because he knew this was all his fault. Still, in a way, he just couldn’t help being the tiniest bit upset at Buck. For not letting Eddie explain, for not texting him, for not knocking on his door and telling Eddie that he loves him, too. 

Maybe he should call him. Maybe that would fix the problem. 

What the fuck.

What was he thinking? A call couldn’t fix a fucked up situation like this one. And Eddie was certainly much to fucked up to just call Buck. 

During lunch is when he made the decision to take matters into his own hands. 

Eddie

• I’m driving over to his place. right now

• Im so fucked, Hen

Hen

• You go kid

-

Standing in front of Bucks door, he was strangely reminded of his conversation with Hen all those weeks ago. He was scared, then, scared to tell the truth…scared to face himself. This time wasn’t like that. This time, he felt more giddy than anything. Is that what a good high feels like? No, this felt better. This was adrenaline and love and everything mixed together and about to explode if Buck didn’t open the door in the next 3 seconds. 

The door opened, and Eddie almost melted. 

There stood Buck, eyes tired from sleep, wearing that green t-shirt he looks so good in. His hair looked russled. He looked so soft. So beautiful…

“What are you doing here–”

“I’m in love with you.”  The words fell right off his tongue, taking all the weight in the world with them. This was it, the make or break, the rise or fall. It felt like it shouldve been a huge,  cathartic moment. One where fireworks should’ve gone off. Maybe Eddie should’ve brought a boombox and held it outside of Buck’s door or something. But it wasnt any of that, because Eddie's mouth was running faster than his brain, and he continued, not leaving room for silence. “I’m not seeing someone, or working on a secret project, or trying not to be your friend. I’m just in love with you, Buck. Evan.” 

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been so honest in his life. 

“You…” 

“Yes. Yes, Buck. And I don’t know what you’re gonna say, if you’re going to say anything. But I couldn’t let it completely ruin our friendship without you knowing the real reason I’ve been staying away from you, so there it is. I’m sorry.” 

Buck paused for a moment, but only a moment, before his mouth split into that wide, toothy grin of his.

“How could you be?” 

“In love with you?” 

“No. How could you be sorry?” 

There’s a moment, right before the drop of a rollercoaster at the very top. There’s a build of anxiety, fear, anticipation–but also temptation. To see what’s on the other side of the hill. And when you finally get there, to the peak of the ride, is when the moment happens. The beautiful, confusing, exhilarating moment milliseconds before you drop into a series of mixed up panicky feelings, and you feel like flying and dying at the same time in the best way. 

All that? All those feelings? 

That’s what it felt like to kiss Buck. 

No–it was more than that. The entire world and all its shitty, horrible problems just vanished. The past didn’t exist. The future was only between the two of them. 

“I love you too.” 

And he finally feels it. That thing they talk about in the movies. The Jane Austen kind of sense surrounding that word, love. It’s ricocheting throughout his entire body, leaving marks and tingling his fingertips all the way through to his feet. That indescribable feeling that is only found by the most accomplished of lovers. The ones who know. The ones who share the feeling as best they can, but it can never truly be received unless the receiver has experienced it themself. Now, Eddie can finally say he gets it.

A mind-numbing chill passes through him at the sight of Buck, so open and vulnerable like Eddie knows him to be, but the difference is that this is for him, and only him. For Eddie’s private eyes, raking over the man in front of him, a dream in grey sweatpants and an oversized shirt. It couldn’t be more perfect. 

“You…that…we…” Eddie tried to form a sentence, but came up short with a string of words instead. Eloquence had never been his strong point. 

“You’re such a dork.” Buck held his shoulders and kissed him again. 

He was on that neverending rollercoaster now, fast and forward, his stomach dropping at every touch, every look, every word. 

“So…are you gonna explain yourself now, or what?” 

“Oh God, don’t make me. It’s so embarrassing.” 

Buck smiles as he invites Eddie inside, grabbing two beers from the fridge as always. “Take your time. Don’t skip over the details.” 

The two of them sit on the couch, their couch, and Eddie tells him everything, skipping no detail.