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Evan Diaz was no stranger to the teasing or complaints from the 118.
He knew he deserved the chastising smack and the groans he got when he snatched the remote from Chimney and switched the channel, but he couldn't help it.
It wasn't every day that he got to see Eddie Diaz looking sweaty and hot while beating the shit out of people, he'd take any chance he could get.
"Your crush has gone too far!" Chim complained.
His words meant nothing since his eyes were already locked on the screen, already watching the beginning of the fight play out.
"Crush?" Hen snorted. "It's an infatuation at this point. He's downright obsessed with this man!"
"Chris loves him." Buck argued, his eyes trailing the lines of sweat the rolled down Eddie's collarbone in the bright lighting. "Sue me for wanting to learn about something my kid enjoys."
That was only half of the reason he watched the fights.
A fourth of the reason was to assess for injuries and another fourth was to support his husband.
What could he say? He was a family man.
Hen rolled her eyes. "I know, but you cannot interrupt everything to watch a man pummel other people. I was actually enjoying what I was watching."
"You can critique medical dramas later, this is a live fight."
"And he's going against a Los Angeles local, Hen." Chim added. "We have to cheer for our home representative!"
"You boys are unbelievable." Hen huffed, walking out of the loft.
Chim glanced over at him, Buck caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. "You don't seriously think Diaz will win, right?"
Buck's eyes barely flicked over to meet Chim's. "Huh? Oh, sure. He's good."
"C'mon!" The shorter man complained. "Have you no faith in Castillo?"
"He's good too." Buck assumed that part. He was barely even paying attention to the guy's name. "It's a fair fight. No way to know who'll win."
Chimney gave a noncommittal hum, like he didn't entirely believe Buck's statement, but turned back to the TV nonetheless.
Buck rubbed his sweaty palms against the fabric of his pants, trying to appear calm and unfazed as Eddie was taken down to the mat with a harsh kick.
'Bruises ribs for sure.' He thought to himself, trying to diagnose the weight of the blow even though he was miles away from it.
His chest tightened and his breathing felt labored, almost as if he were the one being choked.
He hated not being there.
He hated not knowing what kind of injuries Eddie would come home with at the end of the day.
But, it wasn't like he was in much of a position to complain.
His job was arguably more dangerous than Eddie's, he could die out on a call after all.
Speaking of calls, the tones blared through the station suddenly.
Buck jumped out of his seat a little too quickly, hitting his leg on the coffee table in his rush.
"You good there, kid?" Bobby asked as he passed the blonde.
"All good, Cap." He gave the older man a mock salute. "Just ready to get out there."
Bobby eyed him suspiciously, but didn't comment.
The call was a relatively simple evacuation.
Well, that's what Bobby said it would be.
And it almost lived up to that name. Almost.
Buck was on his way out with the last victim, a frightened little boy who'd been hiding in the bathroom when the school went up in flames.
The exit was in sight, it would so close he could almost touch it-
Crack!
He looked up, seeing the rapidly approaching beam collapse from the ceiling.
The word 'run' left his mouth, but he didn't see if the boy followed his instruction.
The beam came down, knocking Buck back into the stairs with a forceful shove.
His head made contact with a hard, tiled step and, shortly, his ears began to ring.
The exit looked a little blurrier than it before as Buck sat up, but it was open. So, the kid must've gotten out.
Good.
Buck felt something drip down his face and for a second he was sure it was sweat, but when he wiped it away, his hand came back red.
He raised his hand again, reaching up to touch the bleeding patch of broken skin.
"Huh..." He mumbled, flexing his bloodied fingers as he pulled them away. "Eso es no bueno."
That was a later problem, Buck still had to push through his pounding headache and blurry vision to walk out of the burning building.
Standing up seemed to make the floor spin, each step he took just made it spin faster.
He stumbled into the doorframe on his way out, the contact making the throbbing pain in his head increase.
Buck called his exit successful when he managed to approach Hen and Chim without collapsing or running into the ambulance, but his uneven walking rewarded him with a checkup in the back of the ambulance.
"Alright, Buckaroo, you know the drill." Hen sighed, securing the bandage over his wound. "Think you can tell me the date?"
"Uno de septiembre." He muttered, weakly.
Hen and Chim shared a worried look. "Uh, okay. What about the year?"
"Dos mil veintiséis."
Hen let out a worried sigh, "Let's get you to the hospital." She said, gently patting him on the shoulder.
"No! No ir hospital!" He argued. He was fine. "¿Dónde está mi amor?" He asked, suddenly.
Buck sat up, searching the inside of the ambulance for Eddie.
Eddie was always there if Buck went to the hospital.
"Yo necesito Eddie." He pouted, laying back on the stretcher with his arms crossed.
"Who's Eddie?" Chim asked, leaning over Buck.
"Mi marido, Eddie!" Buck explained, getting mildly frustrating Eddie wasn't there.
Chim looked back at Hen, who shrugged. He turned back to Buck. "Uh... No habla Español. Habla ingles."
"Yo hable en ingles."
"No, you're habla-ing in Español."
Buck furrowed his brows. "Hablo español muy mal."
Eddie had told him that several times, often comparing his way of speaking to that of a child or just utter nonsense.
His skills from Peru were a bit rusty, okay?
"I don't..." Chim laughed, rubbing his hand against his face. He seemed both worried and frustrated. "I don't know what you're saying."
"¿Dónde está Eddie?" Buck hummed, wistfully.
"We don't know who Eddie is, Buck." Hen spoke, hoping for more information.
"Sí, tu hace!" He groaned, burying his head in his hands. "Edmundo Diaz."
"The MMA fighter?" Chim questioned, tilting his head to the side.
"Sí!"
The clarification didn't seem to clear anything up for Buck's friends, they actually looked even more confused.
Arriving at the hospital felt more embarrassing than usual, like significantly more.
He'd seen countless doctors for countless injuries that could've been avoided, each trip earning him a disapproving stare and an unnecessary medical bill.
"Adult male, early twenties; he hit his head and is showing signs of a possible concussion." Hen informed the doctors as they entered.
"And he's speaking Spanish." Chim threw in.
The doctor made a face. "He doesn't usually speak Spanish?"
Chim raised his brows, then motioned to Buck's paleness with an explanatory wave.
"I didn't want to assume." She clarified, politely.
"Also," Hen started. "This may be unrelated, but on the way here, he started bringing up this MMA fighter. What was his name?"
"Eddie!" Buck answered. "¿Dónde está Eddie?"
"He's been asking variations of that question since he hit his head." Hen added.
The doctor inhaled deeply, then nodded as she turned to Buck. "¿Quién es Eddie?" She questioned.
Buck resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Mi marido."
"¿Tu es casado a Eddie?"
"Sí." Buck answered, exasperated.
She nodded again, but didn't seem to believe him. "Okay, we'll do some scans." She said, turning back to Hen and Chim. "We'll look for signs of brain damage or swelling. The nurse will give you a call when we get the results."
'This is stupid.' Buck thought, crossing his arms over his chest. 'If I could just call Eddie, then this would be fine.'
He froze, stiffening on the uncomfortable bed he'd been transferred to.
He was supposed to call Eddie after the fight ended.
"Mierda." Buck mumbled, rubbing a hand against his face.
Eddie was gonna freak out when he got the call.
Buck sobered up a little over the course of the next hour.
A quick power-nap seemed to sort his brain back into English mode with only a few slip-ups when speaking.
"Mr.Buckley?" A nurse called, rapping her fist against the doorframe. "Your husband is here to see you."
He nodded, blinking a few times before he was sure he wasn't about to fall asleep again. "Can I see him?"
She chuckled. "I was just about to ask if it was okay for him to come in."
"Always." He mumbled, catching sight of Eddie as the nurse stepped aside.
Eddie looked frazzled.
Actually, frazzled would be an understatement. He looked ailed.
His hair, usually gelled back nicely- despite Buck's complaints- had been muddled, sticking up at odd ends. He was still covered in sweat, having not showered or even changed from his match. And he was breathing heavily like he'd run there.
"Hola, mi amor." Buck greeted with a soft smile.
"¿Qué paso?" Eddie blurted out, his chest heaving with every breath.
Buck shrugged. "A concussion. My team got all freaked out when I started speaking Spanish."
Eddie furrowed his brows, the corners of his mouth turning down. "You got hospitalized for speaking Spanish?"
"And a concussion." Buck reminded him. He really didn't have to, he was sure to get a lecture on his recklessness later from his captain and a firm talking to from Eddie about it too. "But they thought I had some extreme case of foreign accent syndrome. Which is weird, 'cause Spanish isn't an accent. And normally it's comas that cause people to start speaking another language-"
He cut himself off with a grunt as the force of Eddie's body collided with him, pulling him into a tight hug. "Dios, please never be put into a coma." Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Buck's birthmark. "The call from the hospital was worrying enough, Chris and I couldn't handle losing you like that."
"You won't lose me." Buck promised, leaning into Eddie despite the sweat. "I promise."
"You know I love you, right?"
"...I know." Buck answered, confusion mounting.
Eddie held him closer, almost too tight. "Then you should know I'm not letting you leave the bed for the next week."
Buck sighed. "I know."
"And no screens, no reading, no working out. I'm being strict about that this time."
"C'mon!" He complained, gently shoving Eddie away. "What about coffee?"
"That's also getting limited." Eddie ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. "One cup a day, Mister. That's it."
"Seriously?"
"I'm very serious, Buckley."
Buck pouted, looking down at his lap in defeat.
After a beat, his brain had already moved on from his punishment, distracted by something much more important.
"Hey," He began, slowly looking up at Eddie. "I know we're still not done with all of the paperwork, but what would you think about... Buckley-Diaz?" He asked.
Eddie's expression was nearly unreadable, but Buck had gotten good at memorizing every little tell Eddie's face had.
A barely noticeable wrinkle formed between his brows, his eyes were hazy with uncertainty, his lips twitched in an attempt to stay neutral.
"We don't have to," Buck mumbled, looking back down. "I was just wondering."
"No, no, it's not that." The brunet admitted, sinking down to his knees to meet Buck's fallen gaze. "It's just-... You would do that?"
"Of course I would, I love you. And Christopher." He answered, easily. "Incorporating your last name would just let everyone else know how lucky I got with you two."
"You're serious about this?"
"Only if- if you felt comfortable with that." Buck cleared his throat, his brows furrowing as he tried to steel himself into having a neutral expression. "I know how your name is a big part of your brand and Chris- oh God, Chris. What if Chris doesn't like it?"
"Mi vida," Eddie's voice was firm, demanding all attention. "Listen to me, okay? Christopher would love to share a last name with you. I would love to- We both love you so much. The three of us becoming, officially, the Buckley-Diaz family would be the second best thing to happen to this family."
"What's the first?"
"Meeting you, of course."
Buck wasn't sure whether he should cry, tease Eddie for being sappy, making an equally sappy comment, or do all three.
Unfortunately, he didn't get to do any of them.
"I hope we aren't interrupting." Hen said, her face alight with a grin that told Buck she knew she was interrupting something. "Oh, who's this handsome fella, Buckaroo?" She asked, looking Eddie up and down.
Chim faltered, two and a half steps behind Hen. "Oh my God, it's him." He whispered, as if he'd seen an angel.
Eddie stood up, standing half to Buck's side and half in front of him. "Who? Who's him?"
"You." Chim pointed, dumbly. "You're him. You're Eddie Diaz."
Uncertainly, Eddie nodded. "Yes, I am."
"This makes so much sense now!" Chim laughed. "Buck wouldn't stop mumbling about you on the way here! I couldn't figure out why he was so caught up about some MMA fighter, but... Wow."
Both Buck and Eddie turned bright red at that, looking like two teens caught making out under the bleachers with how flustered they both were.
"I was- I- Um, after- when I was- he's-" Buck stammered out, trying to explain that he wasn't talking as much as Chim made it seem.
Eddie looked back at him. "You talk about me?" He asked with a shy smile.
"Oh, he talks about you all the time." Hen scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Everything is about Eddie. Eddie this, Eddie that. He plays all of your fights live."
"It's true." Chim added.
"I didn't know you were that big of a fan." Eddie teased, knocking shoulders with Buck.
Buck rolled his eyes, "I only watch to make sure you aren't getting hurt."
Eddie frowned, one hand instinctively reaching for the bandage on Buck's head.
"Sorry..."
"I just worry about you, mi vida." Eddie assured him, wrapping his arm around Buck protectively.
"Ooh, mi vida." Hen looked at Chim, who gave a confused shrug. "You two must be pretty serious, how long have you been dating?"
"Married, actually." Eddie corrected, staring at Buck with a fond smile.
"Just married." Buck mirrored his husband's smile.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Chim hissed.
Buck turned to him with a confused frown. "I didn't?"
"No!" Chim and Hen both exclaimed.
"Well, I didn't not tell you."
"What does that even mean?"
"I talk about Eddie all the- often." Buck cleared his throat. "I talk about him often. Surely, I've mentioned going out with him at least once or twice."
Hen made a strange face. "I always thought you just had a weird parasocial relationship with him."
"Ew." The Buckley-Diaz couple said in unison.
"This is ridiculous! Does Maddie know?" Chim asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Maddie knows." Buck nodded. "Well, I assume she does. I talk to her about Eddie all the time."
"So no one knows else?!"
"Wait," Buck turned to Hen. "You thought the entire time when I kept calling Eddie my future husband that I was parasocially dating him?"
Hen shrugged. "You've done weirder."
"No one knows you two are together! Aside from you two, Chris, and Maddie?" Chim repeated. "How long have you two even know each other?"
Eddie hummed, thoughtfully. "We met last year. It was pretty hectic."
"You remember the call about the lady hitting a bunch of people crossing the street?" Buck asked. "Well, one of those people happened to be Eddie's wife."
"His wife?!" Hen and Chim nearly yelled.
"Yeah, I caught Buck right on his way out. I thought I should thank him for saving her." Eddie explained.
"Well, Hen and Chim did all the hard stuff. I just drove the ambulance." Buck mumbled, bashfully.
"And thank God you did, because she got there just in time."
"Ugh," Hen complained. "You two are too lovey-dovey. I'm leaving. I'll see you at work, Buck."
"Ditto, but I still have some questions." Chim followed, shooting Buck a look.
"Looks like we grossed out your family." Eddie chuckled.
"Looks like we did." Buck agreed.
