Work Text:
Buck had everything figured out.
Dinner at that little restaurant place Eddie had been going to for weeks, maybe drinks after if they were feeling it, and then heading back to Eddie's for a movie with Christopher.
Easy. Comfortable.
One of those nights Buck had secretly been looking forward to all week, the kind that wasn't just about food or drinks, but about being with Eddie and Chris in a way that felt...
Well, it felt like home.
But if there was one thing Buck should have learned by now, it was that life, and especially life as a firefighter in Los Angeles, rarely cooperated with plans.
The call came in late in the afternoon. A warehouse fire on the other side of the city.
B-shift had it covered, but it spiraled into a mess of collapsed beams and extractions that pulled in resources from everywhere, which meant the 118 got held back late after their own shift to help sort equipment and prepare for the incoming crews.
By the time Buck got back to the station, sweaty, exhausted, and streaked in soot, the sun was already low. He sat in the locker room staring at his phone, the weight of disappointment pressing down on him harder than his turnout gear.
Canceling on Eddie wasn't the end of the world. They'd reschedule, no big deal.
But something in Buck's chest twisted uncomfortably at the thought of sending that text.
Still, he forced himself to type.
Buck
Hey, Eddie. I'm afraid I can't make it.
We'll have to postpone it.
It wasn't his usual voice, maybe a little formal, but he didn't trust himself not to sound like a whiny kid begging to still come over even though he looked like he'd crawled out of a chimney. He re-read it once, thumb hovering over "send", when the worst thing that could happen... happened.
He hit send too soon.
His phone screen lit up with the delivered message.
Buck
Hey, Eddie. I'm afraid.
"Shit," Buck whispered. His stomach dropped like he'd missed a rung on a ladder.
He fumbled at the phone, fingers sweaty and clumsy, the panic hitting faster than his rational brain could keep up with.
He could fix this. He could just send another text, right? Easy.
But then the spiral started.
'What if Eddie thinks something's really wrong? What if he thinks I'm having a panic attack, or that I'm in danger, or, worse, what if he thinks I'm scared of him?'
Buck's pulse hammered in his ears. His brain wasn't so much offering solutions as a never-ending slideshow of disasters.
Eddie, staring at that half-text, face creased with worry. Eddie calling Hen, or worse, Bobby. Eddie showing up at his loft to find... what, exactly? Buck sitting cross-legged on the couch arguing with autocorrect?
"Nope. Nope, no, no." He dropped his phone onto the bed like it burned.
He paced the loft, muttering under his breath, running both hands through his hair until it stuck up in wild tufts.
'I can't text again, that's just gonna make it worse. He's gonna think I'm spiraling. Or drunk. Or both. What if he tells Bobby I'm not okay? What if Hen tries to stage another intervention?'
The longer Buck didn't send a follow-up, the heavier the mistake became, like a weight settling on his chest.
By the half-hour mark, he was so worked up he couldn't sit still.
He alternated between pacing and flopping onto the couch with a groan, staring at the offending phone on his coffee table like it was a venomous snake.
And the whole time, his mind looped one unbearable truth:
Eddie was going to see through him.
Because Eddie always did.
//////////
Eddie hadn't meant to check his phone at the red light. But when he did, when Buck's name lit up the screen with that message.
Buck
Hey, Eddie. I'm afraid.
His chest tightened.
At first, he thought maybe he was reading it wrong. Maybe there was more.
He scrolled, tapped, nothing. Just those words.
He could picture Buck's face saying them. Too easily, actually. And that was the problem.
The thing about Buck was that he felt everything at one hundred percent. The highs, the lows, the spaces in between.
Eddie had seen him rush into danger with a grin, but he'd also seen him crushed under the weight of his own insecurities, fighting to breathe against invisible currents Eddie couldn't always pull him from.
So when Eddie got that text, his body didn't even hesitate. He swung the truck into a U-turn and headed straight for Buck's place.
Chris was with Carla for the night. Which meant there was no buffer, no "Dad, don't overreact", no gentle eye-rolls to keep him in check.
Just Eddie, heart thumping harder with every mile, until he was knocking on Buck's apartment door less than an hour later.
//////////
Buck nearly fell off the couch when the knock came.
"Oh no." He froze, staring at the door, dread pooling in his stomach. "Oh, no no no."
"Buck?" Another knock, firmer this time. "It's me."
Eddie's voice.
Buck briefly considered pretending not to be home, but his living room lamp was on, and Eddie knew his truck was parked out front, and besides, Buck had never been able to lie to him.
So he opened the door.
Eddie stood there, brow furrowed, his usual calm gaze sharp with concern. His eyes swept over Buck like he was checking for burns or broken bones.
"What happened?" Eddie asked immediately. "Are you okay?"
Buck's mouth opened. Nothing came out. His brain short-circuited at the sight of Eddie actually there.
"You texted me," Eddie prompted, softer now, like he was coaxing. "Said you were afraid."
"Oh my god. No. No, no, no. That was–" Buck groaned and slapped a hand over his face. "Eddie, I didn't mean it like that."
"You didn't..." Eddie blinked. "mean it?"
"I was trying to say I couldn't make it tonight, and my phone, my stupid thumbs–" Buck waved wildly, words tripping over themselves. "I hit send too soon, and then I panicked, and then I panicked about panicking, and then I couldn't fix it, and now you're here, and... Oh my god, kill me."
For a beat, Eddie just stared at him. Then, like a dam breaking, he burst into laughter.
"You're laughing?" Buck gawked, scandalized.
"Buck, you made it sound like a horror movie. 'Hey, Eddie. I'm afraid.'" Eddie leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head, trying and failing to smother the grin tugging at his mouth. "Like what? Afraid of the dark? Afraid of me showing up late with bad food?"
"This is humiliating." Buck groaned again, louder this time, dragging both hands down his face.
But Eddie only laughed harder, stepping inside and nudging the door shut behind him.
"I swear, you've got the most dramatic phone typos I've ever seen." He said.
"It wasn't even a typo!" Buck exclaimed, throwing his arms out. "It was premature sending!"
That set Eddie off again, his laughter warm and unguarded, the kind Buck rarely got to hear outside of moments with Christopher.
And god help him, Buck would have suffered through a hundred more humiliations if it meant seeing Eddie like that.
When Eddie finally caught his breath, his smile softened. He crossed the room until he was close enough that Buck could see the flecks of gold in his eyes.
"You scared the hell out of me," Eddie admitted quietly. "I thought something was wrong."
"I'm sorry." Buck's heart stuttered. The humor drained, leaving something raw behind. "I didn't mean to–"
"I know." Eddie's voice was gentle. "But for the record? If you ever are afraid... you can just tell me."
It shouldn't have made Buck's throat tighten, but it did.
He nodded, unable to find words around the lump that had formed there.
Eddie's hand brushed his arm, a fleeting touch that lingered like fire.
The laughter from before still sparkled in his eyes, but now it was layered with something deeper.
"You're ridiculous," Eddie murmured. "But you're mine."
"Yours?" Buck blinked.
It was Eddie's turn to hesitate. His jaw worked, like he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
But then, with the same steady courage he always carried into danger, he closed the distance between them.
And kissed him.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't planned.
Just Eddie leaning in, lips brushing Buck's with a certainty that stole his breath.
Buck made a surprised sound, then melted, every thought scattering like sparks. He kissed back with all the unspoken things he'd been holding for years, the words he never trusted himself to say.
When they finally pulled apart, Eddie was smiling again, softer this time.
"See?" he teased lightly. "Nothing to be afraid of."
"You're never letting me live that text down, are you?" Buck huffed a laugh, dazed, his cheeks flaming.
"Not a chance." Eddie's grin widened. "But I'll make it up to you. Dinner tomorrow? My treat."
"Yeah." Buck nodded, still grinning, still stunned, still reeling in the best way. "Tomorrow."
For once, he wasn't afraid at all.