Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Buck takes it as a sign of his ever-growing maturity that he’s not tearing his hair out having to hear about Eddie’s disastrous attempts at meeting women. It helps, of course, that Eddie’s so pathetic at it that it’s hilarious, and Buck gets to tease him about that. So… maybe not that mature, then. But still, he has a bit of a history of jealousy, and that was before he realized he was wildly in love with his best friend, so hey, a win is a win, right? In fact, maybe it was because he wasn’t obsessing over it that he took such glee in claiming “you suck at it!” in the back of the fire truck. Too much glee, perhaps, and Bobby’s reprimanding him with a gentle “alright Buck, come on.” Eddie doesn’t seem hurt, though, and Buck doesn’t mean it as an insult, not really, so he forges on.

“Naw c’mon, I mean if he met his wife when they were kids, he’s never really dated!” Personally, Buck thinks it’s adorable, but he’s sure as hell not gonna use that word while trapped in a vehicle with LA’s nosiest people.

“So he sucks at it!” Chimney agrees, and Buck grins, excited to have someone on his side.

“Yes!” he says.

“Clearly you’ve mastered it, Buck,” Hen deadpans, one eyebrow raised. Buck tilts his head, and he’d almost be offended if he didn’t see what she was talking about. His relationship with Taylor went down like a plane on fire, and his thing with Natalia petered out before it even really had a chance to start, though he thinks maybe that was his fault for picking someone who was so obviously only interested in his death.

“I am spectacular at dating, as a matter of fact,” Buck says. Hen scoffs, and he hurries on before she can respond. “It’s relationships I need to work on, but going on dates? I bet I could woo even you, Hen.”

“Is that so?” It’s clear by the crinkle around her eyes that she’s amused.

“Well, I might ask Karen for some tips,” Buck says. Eddie and Hen laugh, Chimney joining in with a single huff of air.

“Please let me be there when you ask Karen the best ways to woo her wife,” Chimney says.

“Besides, are you really such a master at it if you have to ask for tips?” Eddie asks, eyebrows high, eyes sparkling with amusement in that way that makes Buck’s lungs pop like balloons. “Wouldn’t that make Karen the master?” Bobby shifts in the captain’s seat that way he does when he’s paying attention but doesn’t want anyone to know.

“No, because a true master knows how to utilize all his resources. You don’t have to know everything to be good at something, you just have to know who to ask. I mean really, imagine how lonely life would be if we all already knew everything,” Buck says.

“Not everyone communicates solely through random factoids, Buckaroo,” Chimney says. Buck gives him a look and he shrugs. “Your sister and I have cultivated a strong, loving relationship and I don’t think either of us have ever started a conversation with the words ‘did you know.’”

“I am truly unappreciated in my time,” Buck says, looking from Hen to Eddie for support, not finding any. “You know who else was unappreciated in his time? Van Gogh.”

“Are you referring to yourself as the Van Gogh of dating?” Bobby’s interjection, though not unexpected, is wildly unhelpful to Buck. “That seems egotistical, even for you.” He’s smiling, though, Buck can hear it, and the tiny corner of him that’s been wondering if Bobby was disappointed in him for ribbing Eddie is soothed.

“I’m sorry, have any of you ever been on a date with me? I don’t think so. You are, all of you, talking out your asses,” Buck states loftily.

“Okay, prove it, then,” Eddie challenges, and Buck’s head whips around to him only to be halted in his tracks when Eddie continues. “Take me out. Woo me.”

There’s a split second, as everyone oohs around him like they’re in high school, that Buck stares at Eddie slack-jawed. Evan Buckley, however, is hardly one to turn down a challenge.

“Alright, I will,” he doubles down, “and you are gonna eat those words, because I am gonna woo the pants right off of you.” Buck feels as much as sees all the eyebrows in the truck hit the ceiling, and then he feels his face heat up. “I—Not like that!”

“Why not? It’s how most of your other dates end, right?” Eddie teases, and if Buck didn’t know better, he’d think Eddie knew, because what special hell of teasing is this?

“Careful, Eddie, or I might just take you up on that. Saturday, seven o’clock, I’ll pick you up at your place. Wear something nice.” He finally gives it then, that smile he reserves for people he’s already decided he’s going to sleep with if he can. He doesn’t use it a lot anymore, got the most mileage out of it back in his Buck 1.0 days, but in relationships he has found it to be highly effective. Even Eddie, it seems, is not totally immune, because while he raises his eyebrows again, he notably does not have a snappy comeback for that, but before anyone can say anything else, they’re arriving at the scene and have other things to worry about.

It's not a complicated call—a woman crashed through the bottom of a carriage on the way to her wedding, and Buck starts feeling like a fairy godmother pretty quickly, and just barely stops himself from referring to the ambulance as a pumpkin as they load her up to save the day. Buck loves these kinds of calls—he loves saving lives, but he also has a soft spot for just… helping. For making someone’s day. And when he sees the look on that man’s face as his bride steps out of the ambulance, it makes his heart melt a little. He spends most of the ride back talking about it, humored by each of his coworkers in turn, until Hen, of course, brings it all full circle.

“So since you think this whole thing is so romantic, should Eddie be expecting a carriage on his doorstep on Saturday?” she prods, exchanging a smug glance with Chimney.

Buck sighs. “Please. Eddie, in a carriage? Just because it’s great for them doesn’t mean everybody wants it. That is the second lesson of great dating: as much as you can, cater to your audience.”

“Wait, what was the first lesson?” Eddie asks.

“Utilize your resources, Eddie. With your track record, you should maybe be writing this down.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Okay so what, you’re saying you should stalk someone to determine their ideal date?” Hen asks.

“You are officially manipulating everything I say into the worst possible version of advice,” Buck retorts. “Obviously not. The less you know someone before a date, the more generic it’s going to have to be, obviously. That’s why there are so many classics, like dinner and a movie. They’re good, they’re reliable, but the more you know the person, the more you get to, y’know, tailor the experience.”

“So wait, am I getting the first date fallback, or the tailored experience?” Eddie teases.

“Well there’s no use trying not to make it specific to you, we know each other too well. Besides, you specifically challenged me to woo you, and that’s just what I plan to do.”

Chimney’s grinning and Buck just knows that he and Hen are going to be betting on this later. “Oh, I am going to enjoy this,” he crows. Buck just rolls his eyes and decides fuck all of them, he’s not sharing any more of his very useful dating lessons.

It isn’t until he gets off his shift that he truly realizes that he has three days to plan the perfect date for the love of his life and the panic sets in. He has to woo Eddie while somehow not letting on that he’s desperately in love. While the entire firehouse watches. Great. That’s so great. Buck spends a solid thirty minutes on his couch just spiraling, then he takes what he considers to be the only logical next step: he calls Maddie.

“Hey Buck!”

“How do you woo a man?” Buck taps his finger on his knee and waits through the silence. He’s used to people having to catch up to him, no matter how much he tries to slow down. Maddie’s pretty used to it by now.

“How do you… I’m sorry, woo? Are we back in the 1940s right now?”

“Shut up and answer the question,” Buck says, his leg starting to bounce now too.

“Why are you trying to woo a man?”

Buck swears his mouth isn’t moving fast enough to keep up with his words, but it all comes out anyway. “I’m taking Eddie on a date on Saturday to prove that I’m really good at it but what if I’m only good at it with girls? I’ve never tried to date a guy before, Maddie, you have to help me!”

“You’re going on a date with Eddie?”

Buck stands up and starts pacing. “Maddie,” he whines, “stop asking questions and help me! You’ve dated men before, what do I do?”

Maddie’s voice is dripping with amusement and incredulity. “I may have dated men before, but I’ve never tried to woo one.” Buck, increasingly petulant, whines her name again.

“Okay, okay. But I can’t help you without context, so let’s circle back. You’re going on a date with Eddie?” She sounds cautious now, probing, and Buck understands why. They’ve never talked about it before, not really. There was that one time that she caught him checking out a guy’s ass and asked him if he did that a lot, but then Buck had seen an old roommate of his and they’d never circled back to it. Really, he just wants to skip the part where he has to tell his sister about his feelings. He just wants her to know, so they can move on, because it isn’t a big deal. Which, this conversation is going to do that whether he wanted it to or not, so he may as well just go for it.

“Everybody was saying I wasn’t good at dating, which is ridiculous because I am the king of romantic gestures, and I was telling Eddie that I would knock his socks off on a date because he’s the one that’s bad at it, not me, and then he said ‘prove it’ and I said ‘I will’ and what was I thinking Maddie because now there’s all this pressure and everything has to be perfect but I don’t know if he likes flowers.” He can hear the gears turning in Maddie’s head through the phone.

“Well… do you think he likes flowers?”

“Maddie—”

“I’m serious, Buck. You know him better than most people, certainly better than I do. If anyone knows how to take Eddie on his perfect date, it’s you.”

Buck sits down again, taking a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. Yeah, you’re…you’re right. I’m just panicking, for no reason, everything is fine, I’m great at this, I can do this.”

“Now I’ve never exactly set out to… make a grand gesture for anyone, but I’m not sure how much it matters what the gesture is. I mean, yeah, you want to do stuff Eddie will like, but I think he’ll just appreciate that you tried. Now, the way you’re talking about it, I’m confused. Is this a… real date?”

“What? No. No, it’s just… practice, I guess, and proving a point. Eddie really is terrible at it, I figure I can give him some tips.” It sounds ridiculous, even to him, but he can’t back down now.

“Oh well thank goodness you’re there to help him out.” Buck has never in his life heard Maddie sound this sarcastic, but it’s still hand-in-hand with amused. “So… you don’t want to date Eddie for real?”

Fuck. Well he’s come this far, there’s no point in starting to lie now. She had to find out eventually. “Well I didn’t… say that.”

Maddie is quiet, and Buck bites down on his lip. Please don’t make this a big deal, I know it is, but please let’s just move on.

“Uh-huh. So are you asking me how to woo him because you… want there to be a second date?” She’s gone to genuine concern now and frankly Buck would like the sarcasm back.

“I don’t… He’s straight, okay? But Hen and Chimney are betting on this, so it has to go perfect.”

“Okay.” Maddie relents and Buck sinks two more inches into the couch in relief. “Look, just trust your instincts, okay? He’s your best friend. You’ve got this. And you know I’m always here for you, but please… if you need more advice, ask someone who knows him better than I do. Because I promise you I don’t know anything you don’t. But—Evan…” Oh no, here’s the Big Sister Tone. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean if he really is straight, then wouldn’t you just be hurting yourself?”

Buck knows what she means. There’s a pit buried deep in his chest that’s made of those words that might swallow him whole if he let it. But he isn’t going to let it. He can handle himself.

“Are you asking me to give up? Because you and I both know I can’t do that. I’ll be fine, Maddie. Maybe I’ll even get it out of my system a little. Or if I’m really lucky, he’s so bad at going on dates that I, like so many women before me, will immediately be cured of any desire to date him ever again.”

“Buck,” Maddie scoffs, “you are impossible.” Buck hears the muted babble of Jee-Yun on the other end of the line and he smiles. “Okay, I promised Jee I would take her to the park, so I have to go. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.” He doesn’t intend for it to be a lie, but he knows it probably is. “Tell Jee that her Uncle Buck says hi and he loves her very much.”

“I always do. Call me if you need me, okay?”

Buck says goodbye and hangs up the phone. It was at least nice to say out loud to another person that he was nervous about this and have them understand why. Even as he was terrified that this would get back to Chimney, and therefore Hen, and then everyone. On the bright side, he supposes as he chucks his phone onto his coffee table, he has a date with Eddie Diaz. On the other hand, he still had no idea what he was supposed to do about it.

“Pepa, do you know Eddie’s favorite food?”

“Oh hello, Evancito, I’m wonderful, thanks for asking. Oh, you have a question about Eddie? Of course, I’m happy to help.” Buck winces at himself immediately. He’d meant to start with Hi, how are you doing, how has your day been? but his mouth is moving faster than his brain. Like normal.

“Sorry. I got ahead of myself. I tend to do that.”

Pepa laughs. “Don’t worry yourself about it, cariño. If I know you, this can only mean good things for my nephew. You say you want to know his favorite food?”

“Yeah, I’m taking him out and I really need it to go well, so I thought I’d cook for him. Preferably something that travels well. Or—” Buck begins to do what he’s best at: second guess himself. “I was already going to take him dancing afterwards, but maybe I should take him out to dinner as well? I want to show him off, you know, that’s how you make people feel special. Or would a home-cooked meal be better? What do you think, you know him?” Buck forces his mouth shut, beginning to pace around his kitchen again, trying not to freak out and hang up in pure panicked regret.

There’s silence on the line for just long enough for Buck to decide that he can never talk to Pepa again, then she answers.

“I see,” she says, her voice measured and careful. “Well, either would work, but I think if you’re trying to make it special, taking him out somewhere might be best. You spend enough time at each other’s homes as it is.”

Buck feels every muscle in his body relax. “That makes a lot of sense. Thanks, Pepa. You’re a godsend.”

Pepa clicks her tongue. “I know. I just wish my nephew had told me about this, it sounds exciting, you know?”

“Well, I’m pretty excited for it, it’s been a while since I’ve been able to put something together like this, and I just… It’s Eddie, you know? I want it to be perfect. He deserves it.” Eddie’s aunt is about the only person Buck feels like he can gush about Eddie to without being made fun of, but he might be taking it a bit too far, so he does what he’s worst at and shuts up.

 “I… should let you get back to planning, cariño. Dancing is a great choice. He’s going to love it.”

Warm pride fizzes in Buck’s chest at the words, and he basks in it just long enough to not be able to protest as Pepa hangs up with a small laugh. Pepa thinks this is a good idea. I can do this. I can totally do this. I can date Eddie.

Chapter Text

Eddie’s still not exactly sure why he agreed to this. Maybe he wanted to see Buck scramble, or maybe he was just excited to have a fun night with no pressure. Turns out dating is exhausting, especially when you have no idea what the hell you’re doing, and Eddie can’t help it; he’s looking forward to not having to do any of the work. He almost puts on regular clothes, but then he can hear Buck’s voice in his head griping and complaining and making him come back inside to change, so he should dress up, but what should he wear? Buck has given him nothing to go on, no indication of where they’re going, just said to wear something nice. Well, Eddie knows about nice, he has in fact been on first dates before. Shannon had a great time on their first date, he can just do that again and everything will be fine, so why are his palms sweaty?

He’s still not sure what to expect here—not that he wants to doubt his best friend, but he has no proof that Buck is actually any good at this. He tries to imagine what it might look like, what he would do, and it isn’t until he hears Buck’s knock at the door and the butterflies kick up in his stomach that he realizes he’s nervous.

The last time Eddie was this nervous on a date, he was seventeen, and on the other side of the front door. He still remembers exactly what it felt like, standing on Shannon’s doorstep with a bouquet, his heart jumping out of his chest with every beat as he waited for her to answer the door. He wonders on his way down the hallway if Buck dated much in high school, or if Buck 1.0 was in full effect already at that point. He certainly can’t imagine Buck buying flowers for a girl, slicking his hair back and walking up to her front door, talking to her dad before they leave… no, Eddie doesn’t think that was ever Buck’s style.

Which makes the shock even greater when Eddie swings his front door open to Buck, hair curlier than Eddie’s ever seen it before, blue sweater sleeves pushed up around his elbows, and—oh. He’s holding a bouquet.

“Hey Eddie.” Buck’s voice is quiet and sweet, a tone Eddie has only heard a handful of times, and never directed at him. He’s never seen Buck look so… soft before. And the flowers, they aren’t roses or anything else big and showy, they’re small and delicate, purple and blue.

“What are those?” he can’t take his eyes off the flowers, his brain is still trying to catch up with why Buck has them, what are they for, what—

“Cornflowers and Heliotropes. They’re for you,” Buck says, extending the bouquet. Eddie’s hand falls off its place on the doorknob and he blinks.

“Me?” He takes the flowers, delicately, and pulls them close to his chest, staring at them. “No one’s ever…” His face flushes. Was this how Shannon felt? No, it couldn’t be, Eddie had given her the biggest, showiest bouquet a seventeen-year-old could afford. These were more understated, simply… pretty. This was a pretty thing, that Buck had picked out just for him. Just for Eddie. He thinks he could stand there for hours just looking, but then Buck speaks again.

“Are you wearing a suit?”

Eddie’s eyes snap back to Buck’s face. He looks… amused, and Eddie’s face warms. “You said dress nice,” he defends.

“Yeah, nice, not like you’re on your way to a job interview,” Buck laughs. Eddie’s eyebrows scrunch of their own accord and he sees Buck lock the amusement out of his face.

“No, I’m sorry Eddie, you look great. Here, if we just…” Buck reaches out to take the flowers back from Eddie, who pulls back involuntarily, fingers tightening on the collection of stems. Buck’s cheeks go a little pink and he changes tactics, moving his hands up to Eddie’s jacket and pushing it off his shoulders.

“It really is too bad this isn’t a suit kind of date, but I guess I can settle for taking your clothes off.” Buck’s eyes flick from his hands to Eddie’s face and back again, and he’s smirking but Eddie can also see the apprehension in his eyes, the question: Is this okay? Am I going too far? It’s at this moment that Eddie remembers that this is going to be fun.

He helps Buck, moving the flowers from one hand to another as they take his jacket off. “I thought you’d at least wait till after dinner,” he says, smiling as Buck visibly relaxes. “Come in,” he continues, “I can put these in some water and you can dress me up however you want.” Eddie’s heart feels like it’s beating a little harder now as they walk into his living room, Buck depositing the jacket on the back of the couch and reaching up to the knot of Eddie’s tie.

Buck’s fingers have never been at Eddie’s throat before, he’s pretty sure, and he’s not sure he’s felt more vulnerable before either. He almost reaches up to take over but he still has the flowers in his hand and—I don’t want to let them go—there’s nowhere to put them down. Buck makes short work of the tie, setting it neatly on top of the jacket.

“Are those shoes comfortable?” he asks as he unbuttons Eddie’s top button and takes a step back to survey him, then nods in approval.

Eddie glances down at his shoes. “Yeah, why?”

Buck just smiles. “Don’t worry about it. You ready to go?”

Now that he thinks about it, Eddie remembers this sweater. Buck had worn it to dinner at Athena’s before, Hen had commented how she thought it brought out his eyes. She was right. They’re practically the same shade of blue. Eddie’s always liked blue.

“Eddie?”

“Huh?” Eddie jolts. Buck’s watching him with a smile, his head tilted. “Oh. Yeah, uh, let’s go. Or—” he’s still holding the flowers. “Uh, I don’t think I have any vases.”

Buck just moves past him into the kitchen, coming back a few moments later with a tall drinking glass half full of water. “This’ll do,” he says. “Though next time I’ll bring a vase too.”

Next time. Eddie knows it’s just a joke, but… He puts the flowers into the glass, leaving them on the coffee table. He’d expected to just go out and have a good time with his best friend tonight, but they haven’t even left yet and every time Buck does something else, Eddie’s brain starts rebooting all over again.

“Alright, Eddie, you ready to be wooed out of your mind?” Buck’s hands are in his pockets and he’s grinning again, his posture relaxed, he looks so at ease and capable and Eddie smiles back at him, he can’t help it.

“Let’s do this,” he says.

“Did you… vacuum your car? Have you done that even once in the five years I’ve known you?” Eddie’s looking around as Buck drives, trying to figure out why it feels different, and judging by Buck’s sudden sheepish expression, he’s figured it out.

“Well, I mean, if I’m gonna take out a pretty boy like you, I gotta pull out all the stops, y’know? I’m taking Eddie Diaz to dinner, I can’t have him riding around in a car full of crumbs. You just don’t treat a gentleman that way.”

“I’m a gentleman now?”

“Oh you’ve always been a gentleman, Eddie.”

Eddie feels his face flush again, and he isn’t sure what’s happening because compliments don’t normally fluster him like this, but then again he’s never received compliments like these before. When people compliment him, it’s usually just about his looks, or about how put-together he is (which is hilarious to him because they could not be more wrong) or how strong he is. People normally talk to him like he’s a tough guy who doesn’t need anything, who’s independent and likes it that way. And he is, and he does, but… Buck is the first person to talk to him like he’s something to be treasured, and Eddie’s heart has been beating a little faster than normal since he opened his front door.

Even Shannon, though she loved him and told him as much, always treated him like the protector, like the one who was supposed to be there, be in control, fix everything. And he’d never minded. Hadn’t even thought about it enough to decide he didn’t mind—that was his job and he did it well, and he’d liked being appreciated for it. Eddie had treasured Shannon, and Shannon had loved Eddie, but it was never the same. Eddie didn’t think it was supposed to be. He was the man and Shannon was the woman, and that was how these things went.

But now he’s on a date with a man—a fake date, but still—and Buck’s treating him like… like he’s precious. Like he deserves to be pampered. Eddie doesn’t know how to handle it, so he rolls up his sleeves with a dedication that’s almost mathematical, like he’s getting paid by the clean line and neat fold. By the time he realizes he never answered Buck, it’s way past the appropriate time to do so, even if he had any idea what to say. Buck doesn’t look like he minds, though, just smiling softly out the windshield. Eddie feels a pang of appreciation for Buck then—his best friend, who’s always been there, who’s always supporting Eddie, caring for his son, helping him. He is once again faced with the thought that Buck died. For three minutes and seventeen seconds, this man had been dead, and Eddie had lost him. And then the coma, god, watching him in that bed, watching Christopher talk to him, Eddie had felt like he was going to shatter, like if Buck ever woke up, Eddie would be nothing more than a pile of broken pieces on the floor.

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice almost scares Eddie, he’s so deep in his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“We’re here. Where’d you go?”

Out the window is a restaurant Eddie’s never been to before. It looks nice.

“Nowhere,” he says. “Just thinking. Sorry.”

Buck looks like he wants to ask follow-up questions, but thankfully he doesn’t. “Okay,” he says. “Well I hope you’re hungry.” He gets out of the car without waiting for an answer, and Eddie’s about to follow suit, but Buck jogs around the front of the car and opens Eddie’s door before he has the chance.

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Evan Buckley’s dating tip number three: treat your date how you want to be treated.” Buck grins at him.

“You like when people open doors for you?”

Buck blushes. “Well, I mean no one has, really, but it seems nice. Considerate.” He’s looking all bashful and self-conscious now and it makes Eddie smile.

“It is,” he says, stepping out of the car and gently replacing Buck’s hand on the door to close it. And then, because sue him, he wants to mess with Buck a little, he says, “Thank you, Buck. I appreciate it.”

It’s wildly entertaining to watch Buck go from vaguely bashful to complete deer in headlights, and you’d think Eddie had just handed him the world instead of one small word of affirmation. He looks awestruck, and Eddie can’t stop the small part of him that asks how many people have told Buck he’s appreciated before. Judging by the look on his face, Eddie would guess few to none, and he quietly resolves to say it more often.

“Um, no—no problem, man,” Buck stammers out, smiling at Eddie like he’s the sun, and Eddie takes pity on him, heading for the restaurant doors.

The power fills his stomach and Eddie could get drunk on it. Is this how Taylor felt? How Abby felt, and Ali, and all those other women? To be able to bring Evan Buckley to his knees, leave him blushing and stumbling and stuttering, is this what it was like for them? But no, they can’t have felt like Eddie does now, because they all left Buck. They hurt him, they took advantage of him and left him in the dust, and Eddie only wants to protect him, wrap him up in kind words and reassurances and keep him safe.

He walks a little faster so he can open the door for Buck.

Chapter Text

In another life, Buck was an actor, Eddie is sure, because the way that Buck is looking at him over their plates like a lovestruck fool is Oscar-worthy, and Eddie can really see why so many women have slept with him. He will, of course, not be admitting this to anyone, as he’d really like to exit this experience with some amount of dignity. So he sits there and makes small talk over his pasta and tries not to squirm under Buck’s even-more-intense-than-normal eye contact. He listens to Buck talk about sharks and doesn’t think too hard when their feet keep bumping into each other under the table. He doesn’t think much about it at all when the waitress calls them a cute couple and Buck’s eyes get all shifty and he beams like someone gave him the world again.

“Do you always talk about sharks this much on dates? Is that dating tip number four?” Eddie asks as the waitress leaves them again and Buck takes a sip of his freshly refilled water.

“Oh.” Buck’s face falls, just a little, and Eddie wants to shove the words back in his mouth despite not quite knowing why they were bad in the first place. “No,” Buck continues, “I—I usually don’t talk that much, I know it puts people off, kinda selfish of me, I just figured since you already know how selfish I am and how much I like talking about stuff like that—but I can stop, I’ll stop, this isn’t wooing, I’m sorry.” He laughs. Eddie doesn’t.

Reaching out and grabbing Buck’s hand is an impulse, but the squeeze is a choice. “Hey. You know I like listening to you talk. How else am I supposed to know cool stuff? I’m sure not gonna look it up.”

“You can know cool stuff too,” Buck mumbles, eyes on his plate. There’s a smile.

“I can. And I do. But you enjoy telling people things and who said I was the only one supposed to have fun on this date?”

The look Buck gives him as their eyes meet again is another one for the Oscars. “You know, maybe it’s just that women scare you, because I think you’re doing great at this date,” he says.

Eddie laughs. “What? Women don’t scare me. Besides, remember what you said about being bad at relationships but good at dates? Well I’m the opposite. I’m not good at casual, but once I’m in a relationship? I told you, I nest. Evan Buckley, I could make you feel so loved you wouldn’t even know what to do with yourself.”

Buck doesn’t look like he’s breathing. In fact, Eddie’s never seen him this still, or his eyes this wide.

“Promise?” Buck tries to say it like a dare, but his voice is cracked and their hands are still clasped on the table. Eddie’s not sure how this happened, how he ended up on a date (fake date) with his best friend, holding hands and talking about how well they could love each other. He’s not sure how or why they’re here in this moment, but he knows that he’s feeling something in his gut that he hasn’t felt in a long time and he thinks that if he looked right at it he might crack at the seams and everything that he is might come pouring out. For the first time since Buck came to his door, Eddie feels scared.

“Mm, sorry, only boyfriend Eddie comes with nesting. Date Eddie just comes with overdressing and the occasional compliment.” Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand again before letting go, because he has to, because he might die if he doesn’t, and he’s not sure why, he just has to.

Buck puts a hand to his chest, mouth working in mock offence. “What, I’m not good enough to be your boyfriend, now?”

You’d be a great boyfriend. You always have been, every time, and they never deserved you. If anyone isn’t good enough here it’s me, I’d never be good enough for you. It’s true, but Eddie doesn’t know why he’s thinking it.

“Well, it’s gonna take more than a dinner, that’s for sure.”

Buck gives him yet another look, this one back to all his usual teasing. “Who said it was just dinner tonight?”

“I’m not sure a movie’s really gonna do it either,” Eddie says, trying to relax back into the banter.

“Will people ever stop underestimating me, I wonder?” Buck cocks his head. “As if I’d take you out to something so mundane as a movie.”

“I like movies.”

“Eddie.” Buck leans forward and the light catches in his eyes and god did he get that sweater professionally color matched? “I am wooing you. Did I tell you that I once booked a hot air balloon for a girl? I put in effort, and the fact that this concept seems so foreign to you may have led us to your problem.”

Surely he isn’t… “You didn’t book a hot air balloon for tonight, did you?” Surely he wouldn’t do that for a fake date, but it is Buck after all.

Buck, however, just laughs. “They don’t do those at night. Besides, it’s all about tailoring the experience, remember? You really should be writing this down if you can’t remember it.”

“Do I have to remind you that between the two of us, I’m the only one who has been married?”

“You only got married because she got knocked up, I’m sorry Eddie but that proves nothing.” Buck’s done eating now and he’s just lounging across from Eddie and no wonder all those women had sex with him because what do you mean he looks like that?

“I still feel like it counts for something,” Eddie presses on, wishing there was someone who could appreciate how hard he’s working to keep his side of the conversation on track but knowing that he can never tell a soul because he’d never live it down.

“That’s why you can’t pick up girls! It’s because you’re delusional!” Buck has that shit-eating grin spread on his face like a billboard and Eddie can’t help it, he’s so damn fond.

“Oh I’m delusional now? When we first met your girlfriend had dumped you and you were still living in her house. If I’m delusional I don’t even want to know what that makes you.”

“No one is ever gonna let that go, are they?”

Eddie smirks. “Why would we? You always get so defensive about it, it’s hilarious.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’m just a wind-up toy to you people. You don’t even deserve my dating advice. I’m lost on all of you.”

They’re interrupted then by the waitress with the check, which Buck snatches before Eddie can even move. Not that he was planning on trying to pay anyway—he’s pretty sure that’s for the person doing the wooing. Normally he doesn’t like to be anybody’s charity case, but, hell, he decided he was going to have a good night, and that’s what he’s going to do.

“So since hot air balloons are out, what exactly do you have planned?” Eddie asks as they head back to Buck’s car.

Buck laughs. “You think I’ve kept my mouth shut this whole time just to spoil the surprise now? Be patient, we’re almost there.” And Eddie isn’t sure if he should be apprehensive or excited, because Buck sounds very proud of himself.

It’s dancing. Buck has brought him to a ballroom dancing club. Eddie didn’t even know there was such a thing, he hasn’t really danced since he was a kid. It’s a nice place. Chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, dark red booths around the edges of the room. It looks kind of how Eddie imagines mob joints, and the bartenders are dressed to the nines. He is now very glad Buck did not let him wear that suit, and oh wait, Buck hasn’t said anything since they came through the door.

After spending the whole date up to this point feeling like an idiot for being so nervous, it’s comforting for Eddie to look around and catch Buck looking at him with anxiety seeping out of his very pores before plastering his cocky smile on again when he catches Eddie’s eye.

“Ballroom dancing?” Eddie asks. “Who… How do you even know?” Eddie hasn’t told anyone about his years spent competing, even Shannon didn’t know until after they were married, how could Buck have possibly—

“Christopher,” Buck shrugs, like it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “He mentioned it a couple months back when I picked him up from school for you.”

Eddie blinks. “How did that even come up?” And how did you last months without dropping that you knew?

“I was talking about James Bond, don’t remember why, and he said that sounded like you, because you’re a badass who can also be classy because you know how to dance. Says you taught him some before his first school dance.”

Eddie’s not sure he knows how to breathe because “My son…. compared me… to James Bond?”

Buck smiles. “I mean I don’t see it, Bond is way better with the ladies, but Chris was pretty insistent.”

Is this what it feels like to swallow the sun? Eddie might die, he might die right here and now because there had been a small part of him, when he’d taught Chris to dance, that had been worried that Chris might be ashamed of him for it. And he knew his son better than to actually believe he would, but also children are always embarrassed by their parents, and he thought maybe this would be what did it between him and Chris. But to hear that not only despite his history dancing, but because of it, Eddie’s son had compared him to the literal coolest man to ever exist? His face is going to split right open with how hard he’s smiling, this is the single best day of his entire life.

“My son thinks I’m cool enough to be James Bond,” he says quietly. Buck is looking at him with that lovestruck look again, that look that says our son and Eddie’s never looked much into spontaneous human combustion but he’s pretty sure it’s happening to him right now.

“Let’s dance, huh?” Buck prods. “Tonight’s Swing Night.”

That brings Eddie back to the moment. “There is no way you know how to swing dance.”

Buck just holds out his hand to Eddie. “Please allow me to blow your mind,” he says, that smug Buck smile on his face.

Eddie takes his hand, but his feet don’t move. “Who, uh, leads?” If there were same sex ballroom dancing partners, they didn’t run in any of the circuits Eddie had.

“Well I sure hope it’s you, cause Josie didn’t teach me shit about leading.” Josie must be an old girlfriend. Makes sense for Buck, though Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about Buck taking him out to dance because an ex-girlfriend taught him.

“Though,” Buck continues, eyes glued to a couple that just performed a showy lift to finish out the song, “she’s not exactly a miracle worker so you should still probably manage your expectations out there.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Eddie says, enjoying the smitten look Buck pulls out for the singular scrap of encouragement. “And besides, I’ve gotta be pretty damn rusty myself.”

“Well, let’s find out, then,” Buck says as the next song starts, and they head onto the dance floor.

It’s been almost twenty years since Eddie really just danced. He’d stopped competing because his parents had sucked the fun out of it, turned it into a chore instead of something to do for fun, and at first he’d agonized over it, tortured himself for letting them down, but really he thinks that was the first leak in the dam of him not bothering to try to be what his parents expected anymore. He thinks maybe all the stands he’s taken for himself and for Christopher have been because he had been able to make that first small stand for himself. He’s started to take pride in the fact that he doesn’t dance anymore, that he was able to do that. Which, he realizes now, with Buck, meant that he’d forgotten how damn fun it could be.

Buck is right; he’s not great—and Eddie is right; he’s very rusty. The two of them are the least impressive couple there by far. They aren’t really doing any lifts, because while Eddie thinks he could maybe pull most of them off, he’s still not going to throw Buck’s weight around without some practice in a much more controlled (and padded) environment. It’s the simplest stuff, and Eddie would win no awards for it, and he’s having the time of his life. He’s here, he’s with Buck, and Buck expects nothing of him. He doesn’t have to be in charge, or in control, he doesn’t have to be perfect, doesn’t have to perform, he can just be. He hasn’t felt that in… well at the very least he hasn’t felt it since Christopher was born.

They dance through song after song, both of them steadily improving as they fit into the groove of it and settle into each other’s habits and rhythms. It’s probably easier than it would be for a lot of people, since Buck and Eddie already spend so much time moving around each other, having to communicate through looks and touches as well as words. Maya Hernandez had been Eddie’s partner for the majority of his competitions, and she’d been great, they worked well together, but Buck was something new, a chemistry that was electric. It made Eddie want to go practice those lifts with him for real, come back and dazzle them all. They could do it, Buck and Eddie. He knows they could. He’d like to. He’s not sure what that means to him, but his heart is racing in a good way and Buck is grinning, and the music is loud, and Eddie, for once, stops thinking.

“I think I’m really getting good at this,” Buck says after Eddie doesn’t even know how long. They’re still dancing, though they’re slowing down a little, moving towards the edges. “I’ll have to tell Josie, she’ll be thrilled.”

Eddie raises his eyebrow, feeling a small stab of jealousy. “You still talk to her?”

“Yeah?” Buck gives him a confused look. “I mean she made me promise to let her know how tonight went when I left yesterday.”

“Wait what? You were hanging out with an ex yesterday? I didn’t think you were a hang-out-with-your-ex kind of guy.” Eddie sounds petulant even to himself, which is ridiculous because Buck is a grown man and he can hang out with whoever he wants.

Buck blinks at him, then starts laughing so hard they have to stop dancing until he can collect himself. “You thought—? Eddie, Josie is my neighbor. She’s a dance teacher, and she was the only person who would agree to emergency lessons. Probably because I found her wallet in the hallway once.”

Eddie can only gawk. “You… took dancing lessons? Just to take me out?” He knew Buck went above and beyond, anyone who knew him for more than a day knew that, but this… it wasn’t even a real date. No one, not even Shannon, has ever put this much effort in for Eddie. He was always the one putting in effort, the one who had to impress, the one with something to prove.

“Well, yeah. Of course I did.” Their eyes meet and the song is ending but neither of them are moving off the floor. It’s like Eddie is locked there, locked in place, and he realizes that Buck has indeed been wooing him this entire night and the part of himself that he hasn’t been looking at makes itself undeniable in order to scream that it’s working.

“Let’s go,” Buck says, taking Eddie’s hand again, and it’s warmer than it was last time. “I should get you home, we have a shift tomor—”

“No,” Eddie blurts before he decides to.

Buck’s eyes widen. “N—No?”

“I mean—” Eddie goes red. Really the only thing he’d been thinking was I don’t want it to end yet. “Just, I’m having a good time, if you are, and I mean it’s not that late, we could… y’know, stay a little bit.” He’s nervous again, and it’s embarrassing, but he isn’t ready to go home. Is this how Cinderella felt at the ball? Desperate for every moment before she has to go back to her rags and pumpkins? Now, here, with Buck, Eddie is someone. Someone special, Buck’s date, the man deserving of all this attention and effort, someone cool and worth impressing. Someone beautiful, and someone worthy. Once they go home, well… then he’ll just be Eddie again. The night will be over, and he’ll just be a crappy dad who can’t date, who has to go to therapy just to try to feel normal, which he isn’t even succeeding at, someone who fails everyone around him over and over and over, who clips his friends into harnesses and sends them up ladders to their deaths and can’t even save them afterwards. He’ll just be Eddie, and no one will want him.

He wants Buck to keep wanting him, just a little bit longer.

“Yeah.” Buck is breathless and Eddie has no idea why. “Yeah we can stay a little longer. Dance a couple more. Chris is with Pepa all night, right?”

Eddie nods. Their hands are still clasped together and Eddie doesn’t want to let go, never wants to let go of Buck, he wants to live in this night forever, in a night where Buck is his. He wants Buck to be his.

“Okay, then let’s… let’s stay.” And they dance. It’s still fast-paced, but it feels more intimate this time. Maybe because this time Eddie feels every touch of Buck’s hands, it’s like he’s being shocked. Because every time he crosses behind Buck and drags his hand across Buck’s lower back, he feels like his fingertips are lighting on fire, and every time Buck drags his hand behind Eddie… well Eddie doesn’t think the chills will ever go away. The last time Eddie was this aware of his body, he’d just been shot, and he finds he much prefers this way.

They only look away from each other when they have to. Buck is smiling at Eddie, grinning in that Buck way he has that always makes Eddie’s cheeks hurt to look at, and Eddie is studying Buck in return. Trying to figure out if he’s always been this… beautiful. He has, of course, Eddie knows he has, he’s always thought it, in ways he wouldn’t let himself listen to.

Things in Eddie’s life have never been simple. Not his childhood, not his deployment, certainly not his marriage. Every decision he makes gets second-guessed, regretted, agonized over, because so many choices that he makes are wrong, he gets everything so wrong, it’s like his life is one giant mistake that he’s trying to fix, and there’s never a straightforward answer. Eddie’s stopped looking for one. So he’s surprised, a little, that loving Buck feels so simple. He’s a man, he’s Eddie’s best friend, this should be a big deal, but it isn’t. At least not now, not tonight. Not for the Eddie that he is here. Maybe tomorrow Pumpkin Eddie will have a meltdown about it, but now? Right now he just wants to look, and touch, and feel, and pretend. He’s good at pretending. He’s been pretending he’s fine for thirty years, he can pretend that he gets to take Buck home with him tonight, to keep him. And tomorrow, when he wakes up alone, he’ll pretend that he’s fine again, and Buck’s not the only one who could make it to the Oscars, because no one will ever know. Eddie just had a gay awakening, and no one will have to know, ever.

Buck gets tired pretty quickly after that, but he doesn’t mention leaving again, just pulls Eddie over to a booth and makes him stay there while he gets them water from the bar. Eddie keeps watching him as he goes, watches him dodge around the other people, watches him charm the bartender. The one he talks to is a small blonde who smiles like it’s more than just her job, who laughs at something Buck says in a way that makes another guy at the bar shoot Buck a dirty look. She tosses her ponytail over her shoulder as she puts the waters on the bar, and suddenly the whole night is turned upside-down and Eddie feels like he might throw up. They’re smiling at each other and the bartender is small and soft and put-together and everything Eddie isn’t. She’s what Buck wants, what Buck deserves. She probably isn’t half as broken as Eddie is, doesn’t have to be taped back together every morning and Eddie—

He feels sick with himself. Sitting here and pretending that Buck could ever be his, he’s so fucking selfish and he can’t breathe, his chest is tight, he can’t breathe in and his heart is racing and he hasn’t had a panic attack in months but of course they just have to start up again now, he needed reminding of how broken he really was, after all, and he can’t stay here, he can’t be here, and the next thing he knows, he’s outside, hunched over, hands on his knees and gasping. It’s warm outside, but Eddie is still shaking, and he has to pull himself together, has to at least deliver that Oscar-worthy performance, and when Buck hurries out of the club, Eddie is leaning against the wall like nothing is wrong, but inside he’s numb, because this is it. He ran away, and now he’s not Cinderella anymore, he’s Eddie again. Just Eddie.

Chapter Text

Buck’s ruined it. He’s not sure how, but as he turns around with the waters in his hands, he just catches sight of Eddie high-tailing it out the door, and he knows he’s done something. He’s ruined it somehow and he has to fix it so he sets the waters back on the bar and heads for the exit. Outside, Eddie is leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly, staring at the ground.

Eddie’s eyes have been telling stories all night. Buck hasn’t been able to look away, he’s been so captivated, as always, by those eyes, happy, flattered, embarrassed, even shy a few times, which Buck isn’t used to. Now his eyes are shuttered, closed off, Buck looks at them and sees nothing. He’s seen that look before, and it’s never good. Less than a minute ago, Buck was having the best night of his life, and now he’s almost desperate to know what he did, how he ruined things.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?” He hasn’t had a date go this poorly since Veronica. And he’d thought it’d been going really well.

The cold realization hits when Eddie looks up at Buck and then immediately back at the ground like he’s been burned. Oh, that’s the problem. He’s gone too far. He’s done too much, and it’s made Eddie uncomfortable. He should have seen this coming. Should’ve known he couldn’t have something this nice without messing it up.

“I’m sorry,” he says, shifting on his feet.

Eddie looks up at him again, this time keeping his gaze. “Wh—For what?”

It’s nice of him, pretending he doesn’t know. Eddie’s always been so nice to Buck. “For being so much. I got caught up in everything, I just didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“What? No.” Eddie pushes off the wall, eyes as inscrutable as ever. “Buck, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just tired. We should go home. Probably should’ve gone when you first suggested, really, I was just having such a good time.”

Buck’s not sure he completely believes Eddie, but the words make him feel better anyway. Eddie’s always been able to make him feel better.

“Good,” he says, and his voice is too soft, too full of love, Eddie’s gonna know everything, but Buck can’t stop it, can’t reign it in, he’s never been able to. “That’s all I wanted.”

Eddie smiles, and Buck wants to kiss him so bad.

“It worked. Tonight’s the best night I’ve had in a while. Thanks. I feel appropriately seduced.” Eddie starts towards the car and Buck follows him.

I wish you did.

Maddie was right, as always. This was a horrible idea, and Buck is going to hate himself for it for the rest of his life. He keeps doing this, keeps making choices without thinking them through, he’s always been impulsive, it’s the first thing there is to notice about him, and it’s gotten him into trouble plenty of times before this. But this is the first time he’s the only one who even knows about the fallout. The way that he’s so sure now that he’ll never be able to love anyone else again, not when Eddie’s right here, he’s going to die alone and it’s all his own fault. Maybe he should get a dog. He’s always loved dogs, and his parents never let him have one. A dog could probably fix this. Fix him. Are specific breeds of dogs better for lonely people? He itches to google it, and he preps himself to fall into a research rabbit hole of dog breeds as soon as he makes it home. At least it’ll be something else to think about besides this date.

Despite Buck’s lingering anxiety and dog-based spiral, the ride back to Eddie’s place is pleasant. Eddie pipes up every now and then with thoughts about the night, all of them positive, and it helps rebuild Buck’s self-esteem, just slightly. By the time Buck puts the car in park on Eddie’s street, it’s back to feeling like they’re just two best friends—as opposed to the handful of times that Buck could swear maybe they were a little bit more—and Buck is back to not wanting the night to end. So as soon as he lets go of the gear shift, he’s out of the car, opening the passenger door for Eddie again. It makes Eddie smile, and Buck wants to bottle that smile and take it down off his shelf every night to look at.

“This again?” Eddie asks, amused.

“If you aren’t careful, I’ll undo your seatbelt for you too,” Buck threatens.

Eddie goes pink, undoing his seatbelt with something like haste, and Buck’s worried he’s overstepped again. Did their “date” end as soon as they left the club? God, why did he ever think he could do this?

It doesn’t stop him from following Eddie up the sidewalk, though, and standing under Eddie’s front door light feels like standing at the gates of heaven as Eddie turns to look at him, bathed in the soft yellow light. Buck’s mouth goes dry.

“You trying to come inside with me?” Eddie teases.

“Dating tip number… what, four now? Walk your date to the door.” Buck shoves his hands in his pockets. They’re there now. It’s over, no reason for him to stay, but he can’t make himself move. He wants to take the image of Eddie here at the door, eyes shining with care, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and drink it, let it fill him up and make him shine from the inside out.

Eddie isn’t moving either. “So, that’s what a first date with Evan Buckley is like, huh?”

Buck loves the way Eddie’s mouth only goes up on one side when he smiles. “That’s what it’s like. Take my wisdom and may it serve you well.” Yet another moment where Buck should leave, should excuse himself, but doesn’t.

“Sure there’s nothing you skimped out on? I mean, you walked me all the way to my door, and there’s nothing else you’d usually do on a date?” Eddie is skeptical, and Buck starts to get flustered again.

“Well, technically, there’s usually a goodbye kiss.” He hates that he mentioned it, hates to let Eddie know he was thinking about it.

Eddie tilts his head. “Why you holdin’ out on me, huh?” He says it low, and sharp, like a dare he’s afraid to make, and Evan Buckley is hardly one to turn down a challenge.

He’s on Eddie before he has a chance to second guess himself, one hand on his jaw, the other on his collarbone, and he kisses Eddie like he’s marrying him, because he knows this is the only chance he’ll get. Eddie’s lips are soft, and warm, and Buck had forgotten how nice kissing could be, and Eddie’s hands are on Buck’s waist and he’s kissing him back, and then Buck is pushing Eddie up against the wall and Eddie is letting him and it’s not wedding appropriate anymore but Buck doesn’t care, his hand is in Eddie’s hair and it feels just as good as he’d always thought it would, and—

They break apart, panting. Buck realizes his hands are shaking against Eddie and he steps back, shoving them back in his pockets, because what did he just do? Taking Eddie dancing is one thing, but making out with him on his doorstep? What the hell is wrong with him?

“Holding out on you now?” he breathes, desperately wanting to melt into the concrete.

Eddie blinks at him. “Well don’t let anyone ever tell you you don’t commit to the act,” he says. The act. It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t devastating.

Suddenly Buck can’t stand to be there anymore, he can’t keep looking at Eddie, he can’t, he can’t, he has to leave or he’ll explode, he might explode anyway.

“Make sure you give me a good review at the 118. I know Hen and Chim are dying to know how this turned out.” He takes a step back.

“Yeah,” Eddie mutters.

“I’ll leave you to it. Just don’t let this ruin every other date for you, yeah?” He doesn’t really wait for an answer, he can’t, he just turns on his heel and heads back to the Jeep.

“Goodnight, Buck,” Eddie calls after him.

“’Night, Eddie,” Buck calls back.

He drives to his loft with tight fists and a rock lodged in his throat. He’s lived with a lot over the years. His parents’ neglect, Abby leaving him, Bobby not believing in him, the weight of Daniel’s death, hell, he died this year. He’s survived a lot of things, but this might be it for him. After all of that, what finally kills him might be knowing what Eddie Diaz tastes like, and that he can never taste him again.

Buck dreads going in to work. He hasn’t seen Eddie, hasn’t talked to him, since their date. He doesn’t know how to face him, and it feels ridiculous because it’s not like he wasn’t hopelessly in love with Eddie before. But it’s different now. It’s all different. Because he was reckless, he was careless, and all the messy parts of his beating heart spilled out in front of Eddie, and now he has to try to shove it all back inside, which is so much harder than just holding it in in the first place. Not to mention the fact that this time he’s going to have an audience. Everyone at the 118 is going to be asking about it and the thought makes Buck want to crawl into his bed and never come back out again.

For better or worse, Buck walks into the firehouse with his head held high. The only thing to do is rip the band-aid off, and everything will go back to normal eventually. It has to. He can just move on with his life, work with Eddie, talk with Eddie, hang out with Eddie, and go home alone. He’s been doing that for a while now, he can do it again.

He almost turns around.

“And here comes the dating master!” He hears Chim before he sees him, but they’re all there, scattered around the loft—Chim and Hen playing some sort of card game at the table, Bobby in the kitchen, and Eddie, beautiful breathtaking Eddie, sitting on the couch.

“We were just about to get started,” Chim continues. “Glad you made it.”

“Get started?” Buck asks, halting at the top of the stairs. He hasn’t looked at Eddie on the sofa—can’t, even though he knows that’s the most suspicious course of action. He’s not sure Eddie’s looking at him either.

“We want the details!” Chim exclaims, and Buck’s eyes finally go to Eddie, only to find him already looking back.

“He means they’re about to interrogate us,” Eddie says, and his smile is breaking Buck’s heart all over again. “I’m glad you showed up when you did, I would’ve given them everything on my own.”

Buck sees himself, in another universe, another day, he watches himself claw his heart out of his chest and hand it to Eddie right then and there, falling to his knees and begging Eddie to hold it, not even cradle it, crush it to dust if he wants, just hold it.

“Lucky for us, I’ve been trained to resist torture,” Buck quips, then laughs at the looks Hen and Chim give him. “That’s true, actually. I mean I quit the SEALs, but I got some good tips before I bailed.”

“Wha—”

“You—”

“SEALs?”

Buck basks in the incredulousness. He loves how people—especially everyone at the 118—respond when he brings up any of his niche knowledge from his early years. Other than the time he mentioned it to Bobby, he’s been keeping the SEALs for a rainy day, and if this isn’t just the perfect rainy day for it. Right up until—

“Now hang on everybody, let’s not lose focus here. I think these boys have a date to tell us about.” Bobby has been singlehandedly making Buck’s life difficult for almost seven years now. It’s infuriating. Just like a real dad.

“Is it bad to hope for an emergency right now?” Buck relishes in being able to still joke with Eddie like this, even as his body is trying to tell him that he’s being hunted for sport. Another sign of that maturity he’s waiting for someone else to notice.

“The gentlemen doth protest too much, methinks!” Chimney exclaims, crossing his arms and sharing a look with Hen.

“Alright, fine.” Eddie’s smiling, but Buck doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to know what Eddie thinks about their date, can’t listen to him talk about it like an experiment, but there’s nowhere to go.

“It was surprisingly nice,” Eddie continues, and Buck can’t help the eye roll at “surprisingly,” but no one notices. “He was considerate, took me to some nice places, we had a good time.”

“Eddie, you sound like a three-star yelp review, where are the details?” Hen chastises. Buck can’t help but agree in contradiction to his desperation to not hear about it. It’s a very bland retelling of the best night of his life, though he is also thankful for that lack of detail, because if they tease him about the date itself he might cry.

“Yeah, C’mon, man, how many cheesy pick-up lines did he drop? Where did he take you, what did you do? Were there flowers?” Chimney interrupted himself with a gasp. “Did he flirt with other people?”

“Hey!” Buck isn’t sure if Chimney’s being serious or not, and he hates that. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Bobby jumps in, soothing.

“Well there was the cute bartender.” Eddie’s teasing, he must be teasing, but Buck’s heart drops anyway.

“Don’t tell them that, I wasn’t flirting with anyone else!” I wouldn’t, I would never, just you, only you. It feels like the time that guy was catfishing as him and everyone thought he was sleeping around. And all these years later, he’s still just as desperate for them to believe him.

“You took him to a bar? After all that talk, a bar was the best you could do?” Hen sounds genuinely disappointed.

Buck crosses his arms, and god this is his worst nightmare. “No, it was a club. I took him dancing.”

“You? Dancing?” Chimney’s eyes about pop out of his head, but Bobby looks impressed, and Buck latches onto that.

“That’s something I would pay to see, I know you dance like a white man,” Hen laughs.

“Eh, you’d be surprised,” Eddie says, arm stretching across the back of the sofa. “He was really gettin’ his hips into it after a while. I wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with him, at least.”

It’s nothing, silly, just more teasing, but Buck’s stomach swoops. He wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with me. He feels the smile and knows he should stop it, this is ridiculous, he’s such a wreck, but there’s no stopping.

“Well it’s not quite a glowing review, but I-I’ll take it,” he says, finally strolling away from the stairs and fully into the loft. He wants to sit next to Eddie on the couch, feels the pull like a magnet, but he drapes himself across an armchair instead, trying not to stare either.

“From someone with Eddie’s background? Sounds like a glowing review to me,” Bobby points out.

Eddie shoots Buck a look. “Is there anybody who doesn’t know about that?”

“Know about what?” Chimney asks. Eddie throws his head back against the couch cushions and groans.

“Eddie here was an award-winning ballroom dancer when he was a kid,” Bobby says, not looking up from the coffee maker even when Hen and Chimney start gaping.

“You were a what?” Chimney’s grinning like Christmas came early and Eddie’s looking like he regrets ever moving to California in the first place.

“Buck, remind me to never let Chris talk to you again,” Eddie tells the ceiling.

“What, you expected me to just keep that to myself? You’re lucky I didn’t tell everyone.”

“Yeah, Buckley, why didn’t you tell everyone? How long you been holding out on us?” Chimney asks.

“I was waiting for the right time. And then what would you know, he dares me to take him on a date. I had to make it good. Told you I’m great at it.” Buck sinks into his smugness, watching the eyes roll all across the loft, coming to rest on Eddie, who’s now watching him with that same damn half smile. Buck gets whiplash every time he sees Eddie’s face, no matter what he looks like, it takes Buck and slams him against a wall.

“Betrayal,” Chim continues. “Complete and utter betrayal. I can’t believe you.”

“Can we go back to when no one knew about that?” Eddie asks.

“No we most definitely cannot,” Hen says. “You do realize we’re going to need a demonstration, right?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that, guys, he’s pretty rusty.” Buck relishes in the betrayed look Eddie shoots him at that.

“And after I was just so nice to you. Maybe I should have brought up how many times you stepped on my foot, huh? I counted, you know, and I don’t think you’ll like the number.” Eddie’s looking at him and it feels like it’s just the two of them and god this is going to kill Buck, it’s going to kill him, this is so bad, Maddie was right.

“I doubt he can count that high.”

“Personally, I’d love to get a reenactment. I mean if Eddie’s going to demonstrate, he’ll need a partner anyway.” Damn it Bobby what the hell are you doing to me? Buck’s going to die and it’s going to be Bobby’s fault.

“Absolutely not,” he says, “I don’t dance for vultures.”

“Yeah he’d need at least ten more classes with Josie before he’s fit to be seen by anyone,” Eddie says.

“Josie?” Chimney asks in that tone.

“She an ex?” Hen asks, and Buck groans.

“Why does everybody keep thinking that? I can know women I haven’t dated, you know.”

“She’s his neighbor.” Eddie looks unfairly relaxed now, and Buck wishes they were back on the dancing thing. “Gave him lessons.”

“I’m sorry—” Bobby walks around the counter. “Did you just go wandering around your apartment building begging for someone to teach you how to dance?”

Buck feels himself start to go red. “No, I contacted her directly. I tried a couple places around town, but you guys know how our schedules are, and then I remembered something Josie had said to me one time, cause the building elevator was broken and I helped her carry her groceries up the stairs. She was only too happy to help.” He will not, ever, tell them how much he’d had to beg and bargain before she’d said yes. And he will definitely never tell them what made her finally agree.

“You really go above and beyond, don’t you, Buck?” Hen sounds almost awed, and she’s looking between him and Eddie with a bit too knowing of a look, but for once, for once in Buck’s life his prayers finally get answered and an alarm blares. Eddie bumps their shoulders together on the way down the stairs, and it’s just like it’s always been.

Chapter Text

As Eddie watches Buck walk back to his car, he feels like he should be crumbling. Like his knees should be buckling under him, like he should be collapsing against the door like a swooning heroine. Instead, as he watches the man who just kissed Eddie the best he’s ever been kissed in his life, he feels etched in stone, frozen in place, cold and hard and unforgiving. Because the kiss doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything. Eddie practically dared him to, and he shouldn’t have done that, because that was the final nail in the coffin. Eddie has calcified right here on his front step, watching Buck drive away, wishing he had the power to scrub this whole night out of existence, knowing he’d never be able to go through with it even if he could. 

It takes five minutes for him to be able to go inside, pushing his way past the phantom hands pinning him to the wall and running over his jaw and fisting in his hair. He smoothes his palm over his hair self-consciously even though no one else is around to see it. He’s back in his real house now, in his real life, and he can’t be bringing all this mess into it. Eddie leans against his front door, rubbing his hand down his face, snatching at the pieces of himself as they try to fly away. This cannot break him. He cannot fall apart, he isn’t allowed to fall apart, not again, not after he tried to beat his house to death in front of his son. Christopher deserves more from him, deserves better from him.

He's just about pulled himself together, walking further into the living room, when he sees the flowers. The fucking flowers that Buck brought him, sitting on the coffee table. They’re it. He’s Cinderella back in the cold hearth and those flowers are his glass slipper, mocking him. They’re all Eddie has beyond the memory of touch that’s going to haunt him in his sleep, and they’re going to fade, they’re going to die, and then they’ll be gone too, dried stems and withering petals all that Eddie has left of the time that he was special.

It's selfish, and foolish, and embarrassing, but no one else is here, no one else can see, no one else will ever know, so he pulls out his phone and googles “how to preserve flowers at home.” A bunch of different methods come up, a lot of which involve things that Eddie doesn’t have, like silica gel and, for some reason, sand. He could put them in the oven but he is notoriously bad with ovens and doesn’t want to risk it. Then there’s the microwave, which is a safer bet than the oven but tends to dampen the color, which Eddie doesn’t want to do. Just because those fucking cornflowers are only his second-favorite shade of blue doesn’t mean he wants to change them if he can help it. In the end, he decides that book-pressing is his best option, even though the website says it could take multiple weeks. And if he doesn’t just have the perfect book for it.

He'd been meaning to get rid of it, honestly. It’d been his first birthday since moving to LA, and on his front porch there’d been a package from his mom. They still hadn’t totally come around to talking to him at that point, so he’d honestly been pretty touched, until he opened it. The book was big, and professionally bound, and full of pictures of Christopher. It should’ve been the perfect gift, except that for all those pictures of Christopher, happy in Texas, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. They were labelled, too, from two-word captions to a full paragraph of reminiscence, Eddie’s mom had sent him a full catalog of his son’s first years, the years that Eddie wasn’t there. As if Eddie had never even been a part of his life at all. The only reason he hadn’t thrown it away then and there was because, for better or worse, that was his son, and he couldn’t bring himself to throw it in the trash no matter how mad it made him. But he hadn’t looked at it since that first day, and now he figured he’d finally found something good it could do for him.

He had parchment paper in his kitchen—Buck had bought it once when he cooked them dinner—and he spent entirely too long cutting it into neat rectangles to fit between the pages of the book. Probably because he knows that he’s going to spend way too long staring at his ceiling before he can actually go to sleep tonight, so he might as well do something with his time. He almost feels sad to pull the bouquet apart, because it really did look nice and his hands are too large and rough for something as delicate as this. He feels like a fool, separating the small stems with such care as if he isn’t just clinging to scraps of a night already long gone.

When Eddie finally does throw himself onto his bed, the book now full of flowers sits shoved into the corner of his bedroom, pressed under every book that Chris won’t notice is missing. He’s made himself promise that he won’t touch it for a week, hoping that by then he’ll be back under control. He wishes Christopher was here tonight, to give him something to think about besides how royally fucked he is now. It’s like his DNA has reshuffled, every part of him slightly different than it was yesterday, and still he can’t think about what this means for him, what it could change in his life, all he can think about is Buck. Buck’s smile, and his eyes, and the tilt of his head when he’s nervous and trying not to show it, and his hands and the way they feel in Eddie’s own…

Fuck. Eddie’s drowning. He’s lying there in his bed, god knows he should be asleep, but instead he’s drowning himself in memories of Buck, and he knows he can never tell anyone about this, he has to swallow it down, he has to lock it away. It shouldn’t be hard, there’s already a space for it wherever Eddie’s attraction to men was hiding before this, he can take all this Buck stuff and just shove it into that same little box and everything will go back to normal. One date doesn’t have to ruin his life.

The relief on Buck’s face is plain when the alarm goes, and Eddie can’t help but silently agree with him. As much fun as it was to tease Buck, they were still in very dangerous territory, and Eddie desperately needed some kind of distraction from having to look at Buck’s biceps bulging around the ends of his sleeves. They’ve only been at work for a couple minutes and Eddie’s already imagining all sorts of things when he looks at Buck that make him want to light himself on fire in embarrassment. He’s surprised no one caught him staring, though he’s not convinced they didn’t; Hen is remarkably observant, which means that Eddie is not allowed to be alone with her ever again in case she decides to bring it up. But now he gets to focus on this pile-up, and he can do that, he can ignore Buck and his perfect… everything for long enough to help these people.

For how many cars are involved, there are relatively few serious injuries, for which Eddie is thankful. They’re able to clear the rest of the cars before Hen and Chimney even make it into the van, which also means getting a front row seat to the woman inside. He gets that feeling again, that dread, when her toes don’t move, and people always ask if it ever gets any easier, and you may get used to it, but “easy” isn’t a word Eddie would ever use. But there’s hope, of course, and Eddie clings to it like always as they wheel Mallory to the helicopter, and once they’re away, he feels the settled relief. They’re done. It’s over. Well, mostly over—he sees Buck coming his way, and no, please, thank you, Eddie has been having a very successful ten minutes of not thinking about Buck and how he could toss Eddie around like a sack of potatoes if he wanted, and he would very much like to extend his streak.

“Hey Cap,” he calls, “think there’s a propane stove in the van, I’m gonna go check it out!”

“Good thinking, Eddie.”

It’s true, despite the guilt Eddie feels for dodging Buck, but he hasn’t had a chance to even clap eyes on the stove before the ground is shaking under his feet. God not another earthquake. He has no idea what’s happening outside, all he knows is that one minute they’re wrapping up this whole thing, and the next he’s getting tossed around the inside of the van like a ragdoll as it gets thrown in a direction that Eddie can only assume is down. He hears the yelling and the rumbling outside and even as the refrigerator lands on top of him, the only thing he can think is Buck, please let Buck be okay.

For a few seconds that feels like a lifetime, there’s nothing but the sound of the rubble settling and the feeling of ice sharp pain lacing through Eddie’s chest with every poor attempt at a breath. He tries to crawl his way out and quickly realizes that’s a horrible and painful idea. Then, gloriously, Buck’s voice comes crackling through the radio.

“118, report in, I need a head count.” He sounds surprisingly calm, though maybe things just aren’t actually as bad as they seem under this fridge.

“I’m grabbing the ropes!” Ravi sounds completely unhurt, which gives Eddie even more hope. Maybe everyone else is okay too. Maybe they all get to be okay.

“I’m in the van,” Eddie chimes in, though it feels like he’s taking years off his life to do so. “Pretty sure I broke a couple ribs.” If he’s lucky, that’s all it is. Though that still doesn’t feel very lucky, especially based on the creaking and groaning sounds coming from the metal all around him. “But this van is about to get pancaked.”

“Okay, Eddie, uh… we’re comin’ to ya.” A bit more fear is starting to creep into Buck’s voice. He’s not all alone up there, is he? Eddie hopes not.

“Han, what is your status?” Nothing. “Han, come in. Han!” Buck is slipping, Eddie can hear it, he’s slipping and Eddie wants to be there, to help him, but fuck his ribs hurt, and he’s listening, and he’s hoping, and—

“Han here.”

Eddie would breathe a sigh of relief if he could.

“Captain Nash, still haven’t heard from you. What is your status?” There’s a notable tremor in Buck’s voice now. “Bobby, come in.” There’s nothing, and Eddie feels helpless, so fucking helpless, because his team, his captain, they all need him, and he’s here stuck like a bug in this van, this crushing weight on his chest just like every other, except this one he can’t ignore, can’t push past, it’s not failure as a father or unrequited love, it’s a fucking fridge and Eddie can’t stand it, he can’t fucking stand it, because he’s the person who helps people, not the person who has to be helped.

Buck isn’t talking over the radio anymore, he must be doing something, helping someone. He didn’t ask about Hen over the radio, so he must be able to see her, which is a good sign. Eddie can’t stand it, though, the sitting here helpless, the not knowing, there aren’t a lot of handholds, but he has to try. He braces himself against the side of the van and tries again to pull himself out. All he gets for his trouble is a wave of pain so crushing he blacks out for a few seconds. Buck? He trusts Buck, he knows Buck is doing his best, is doing everything right, but he can’t stop himself from the little indulgence, he whispers, just once, just to himself: “Help…”

He’s desperate, so desperate, for someone to get him out of here, so he can help, so he can find Bobby, so he can see with his own eyes that Buck is safe, that he’s okay, please, someone, get him the fuck out of here. He’s about to try again, to hell with how stupid and futile that idea is, when Athena comes in over the radio. She’s on scene now, and Eddie feels a little safer, god if they can just find Bobby, somebody find Bobby.

Eddie’s about to tear his own hair out, he’s about to scream, to explode, to get crushed and die, he may well go insane in this van, he—

“Eddie! Eddie, you in there?” Buck’s right outside the rear doors and Eddie could fucking cry. He tries to answer but all that comes out is a ragged, pained sound.

“Hey don’t move,” Buck calls. “I’m gonna get these doors open, okay, I-I’m gonna get to you, just shield your eyes, okay? I’m gonna get you out.” Buck sounds almost as desperate as Eddie feels, but as he drags the blanket over his head, Eddie feels some of the pressure abating because Buck is here, Buck is here and he’s going to help, he’s going to get Eddie out and then they can help everyone else, side by side like they always are, like Eddie always wants them to be.

When the door finally opens, Buck is there, framed in sunlight, helmet slightly crooked as it always is, and Eddie has never been happier to see that man in his life, but it’s still not over.

“Any sign of Cap?” he asks. Please, tell me there’s something I missed. Buck just shakes his head and the trapped feeling, the get me out of here feeling comes back in full force. Buck sees it, Eddie knows he does, and he moves forward, reaching out.

“Sorry about this,” he says.

“This is gonna suck,” Eddie mutters, grabbing Buck’s hand. Buck pulls, and Eddie crawls, and his ribs stab, and Eddie yells, and his mind breaks in two for a moment, the only things he can feel are the pain, insistent and overwhelming, and Buck’s hand, solid and firm and real in Eddie’s own. It’s that feeling he moves towards, that one he focuses on, and the next thing he knows the pain is abating again, ever so slightly, and Buck’s arm is around him, and they’re climbing down the rubble together. Buck steadies him as they go, strong and constant next to him, which is good because breathing is still an agony, and breathing is a lot easier than scaling a pile of dismantled overpass. It’s good to see Buck here, though, and Jo, heading to another ambulance, and Hen, god it’s good to see Hen with his own eyes, at least until she throws up over the side of the truck she’s on.

“Hen!” Eddie cries, moving towards her in tandem with Buck.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Hen says, holding her hand out placatingly. “I’m okay, I’m pretty sure I’m just concussed.” That doesn’t sound very okay to Eddie, but as the proud owner of several broken ribs, he’s hardly one to talk.

“We’ve gotta get Chimney, we’ve gotta get—”

“Hey, hey, woah, we’ll get Chimney, let’s get you down, C’mon, I’ll get him.” Buck climbs halfway up the overturned truck, reassuring Hen as he lifts her down, but Eddie can hear the van starting to creak again. Buck sets Hen on her feet and Eddie wraps his arm around her. He’s pretty sure if you put them both together they still wouldn’t amount to one fully functioning human being, but they’re able to guide each other away from the pile, and Eddie feels stronger for having her there. Right up until the van gives another great groan and Eddie feels all of them realize at once—it’s coming down.

“Get back! Get back!” Buck’s hand is at Eddie’s shoulder and he’s pushing, forcing, and Eddie and Hen are running, and god it hurts so bad, but he goes, he has to. The van falls and Eddie hears the cable on the ambulance snap taut and he feels himself start to panic. Chimney. For a moment, everything seems like it might be fine, but then the rear ambulance doors fly open, and Chimney is dangling out the back.

“Chim!” Hen, Eddie, and Buck surge forward at the same time, though Eddie knows there’s nothing he or Hen can do in time. It’s all up to Buck.

“Chim, hang on!” Buck climbs back up, throwing himself forward with every step, and Eddie’s throat tightens as he watches. He hates being this scared and this helpless, he wants to throw himself after Buck, to climb, to do something, but all he can do is watch as Buck grabs Chimney and brings him back down to the earth. Hen and Eddie follow Buck as he carries Chimney to the freshly arrived ambulance, and finally there’s only one weight on Eddie’s chest, but it’s the biggest one. Bobby.

But as soon as he thinks it, all his unsent prayers are answered.

“This is Seargent Athena Grant.” They all pause as her voice comes over the radio. “To anyone on scene, I have Captain Nash of the 118 and a civilian. We’re trapped in a container at the bottom of the collapse. We’re in need of an assist with extraction.” Eddie can feel everyone on scene breathe out, and everyone still standing starts heading back to the overpass. Even Chim tries to stand up, though the firefighters still at his side don’t let him.

Eddie heads around the side of the container with Hen while Buck checks the front, but there’s nothing, no way in. Buck radios that the door is completely blocked, and Eddie swears under his breath. Everyone else is fine, everyone else is out, if they can just save Bobby then everything will be fine, but they have to get in there first and Eddie’s about to start clawing at the metal with his bare hands when Maddie sends in the construction crew. Eddie—broken, useless Eddie—watches as Buck secures the chains around the doors and hooks them onto the crane. He watches as the door comes open, as Buck rushes in and starts prying away the movable pieces with Ravi’s help. The strain on him is obvious, his face is pale and something about that strikes Eddie, that his face should be red if anything, but his main focus is Bobby, because they can all see him now, and they’re here, and he’s going to be okay.

Ravi places the airbags, Eddie snatching the dial from someone next to him because by god he’s got to do something, and as Buck pulls Bobby from the collapse, Eddie can finally fucking breathe again. He’s shaking now, the adrenaline catching up to him now that he knows everyone is safe, and he just wants to collapse right there on the street. He’s tempted to do it, to make Buck carry him, but he can’t be selfish right now, and if he makes it to the ambulance in time, they’ll probably let him ride with Bobby. He’s almost there, too, watching Bobby be lifted in the back when he hears Ravi’s voice.

“Buck?”

He'd thought Buck was right behind him, he’d been sure they’d been in step with each other like always, but when he turns around, Buck is several feet back from him, hand pressed to his chest. His face is definitely pale now, and he’s gazing ahead of him, unfocussed.

Eddie had walked away from that collapse without looking back. He’d walked away because they were all okay, they were always okay, and the bad part was over. There was nothing else to worry about. Eddie had walked away, and he hadn’t looked back, and Buck is falling, and Eddie isn’t there to catch him.

“Buck!” Eddie is running again, because no, no, it was over, they were done, everyone was fine, but now Buck is on the ground and unresponsive even as Eddie grabs him. “Buck, c’mon, wake up! Buck!” He has a pulse, Eddie feels it, but it’s faint, and this can’t be happening, not again, Buck cannot be about to die on him again, please, not now, not ever, Eddie’s never supposed to live in a world without him again.

They have to drag him away, two of them, and he fights them every second, even as he sees other paramedics rush to Buck’s side, loading him onto a gurney.

“Let me go! Buck!” Eddie feels rabid, clawing and pulling at the arms holding him back, he has to get to Buck, has to help him, has to find out what’s wrong and fix it, he has to fix this, Buck pulled him out and now it’s his turn but these motherfuckers won’t let him go and every attempt to get away makes his ribs hurt all the more, he’s screaming so much his throat starts to hurt too but they still won’t let him go. Buck’s still on the ground, people are all around him, prodding and probing, Eddie should be one of them, he should be there, be with Buck, he has to get to Buck—

There’s a pinch at his neck before he realizes anyone was talking about him, and the calm that floods his body is revolting, he can’t stand it, he doesn’t want it, there’s nothing to be calm about, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop the darkness creeping over him, can’t stop himself from going limp in the restraining arms, and the last thing he sees is Buck being wheeled towards him, face blank and cold and empty—and then Eddie is gone.

Chapter Text

When Eddie wakes up again, the pain in his ribs has lessened, and his head has been filled with cotton. It takes him a moment to remember what’s happening, where he is and why, but then he takes in the gentle beeping from another room and the sterile smell. The hospital. Buck. Eddie shoots upright, or at least he tries. He only makes it halfway before there’s a pull on his wrist and a stab at his ribs.

“Eddie!” Ravi is standing in a corner, eyes wide, fumbling his phone out of his pocket.

“Ravi? What… Why am I handcuffed to the bed? Where’s Buck, is he okay?” Eddie knows it’s futile, but he yanks on the handcuffs anyway.

“Buck’s in surgery,” Ravi says, typing something out on his phone, then shoving it back into his pocket.

“Surgery? For what, is he gonna be okay? Ravi—” Eddie pulls at the cuffs again, his relief that Buck is still alive fighting his dread that he needs surgery for something.

Ravi’s eyes dart to the door, then back to Eddie. “We don’t know right now. He was… bleeding internally, who knows for how long before he collapsed, I…” Ravi ducks his head. “I didn’t notice, he seemed fine, I was just so worried about Cap, and…” He won’t look at Eddie now, eyes fixed on the floor.

“I—” Eddie jerks his hand again, this time involuntarily, only to be confronted by the cuffs again. “Why the hell am I cuffed?”

Ravi sucks in air through his teeth and finally looks back up at him. “You, uh, punched a guy at the scene. You don’t remember that?”

He most certainly does not. He hit someone? “What?” He only remembers Buck. Buck pale, Buck on the ground, Buck limp and unresponsive. Sure, there were people holding him, holding him back, but…

“You were threatening people left and right, and I knew when you woke up you were unlikely to be any more open to reason.” Athena is standing in the doorway now, still in her uniform. Ravi visibly relaxes when he sees her, which fills Eddie with embarrassment. “Now if I unlock those, are you gonna act like an adult or do I need to call them in to sedate you again?”

“I… Is he gonna be out of surgery soon? I don’t… Is he going to die?” He feels ridiculous, sitting there on that hospital bed like a child, begging this woman to reassure him, to tell him it’s going to be okay when her husband is in this same hospital somewhere. He knows Athena can’t tell him anything, he knows that no one knows anything, but he can’t do this again. It feels like it hasn’t been any time at all since Buck was struck by lightning and now here they are back again and Eddie can’t do this, he can’t handle it, the helplessness is going to overwhelm him because it was bad enough when Buck was dying and he was Eddie’s best friend, now Buck is dying and he’s so much more than that. Less than twenty-four hours ago Buck was kissing Eddie at his front door, he can still feel the ghost of Buck’s hands, it’s not fair and it’s not right. It wasn’t a full day ago that he was twirling Buck around a dance floor as if neither of them had a care in the world, and now he’s in some fucking OR somewhere and Eddie’s cuffed to a bed and there’s nothing he can do. There’s no way to make this right. Eddie can’t fix this. He’s useless, helpless, as always, as fucking always, completely out of control, reduced to begging for Buck’s life to someone who also can’t do a damn thing to help him anymore.

“We don’t know.” Athena’s voice is heavy. “He went into hypovolemic shock in the ambulance, he lost a lot of blood, they say he has a broken wrist—”

“What? No, he… He pulled me out of the van, he wasn’t… he couldn’t have had a broken wrist, he…” He wouldn’t have pulled me out if it was going to hurt him that much.

“You and I both know that Buck isn’t going to put himself first unless something makes him.” Athena sounds like she’s about to cry, and that’s what does it.

“I have to see him,” Eddie demands. “Let me out of here.”

“Eddie—”

“No, let me out!” Eddie starts pulling at the cuffs again, he’s desperate to get to Buck, about ready to gnaw his own arm off to do it, because this is his fault, he knows it is, he was right there the whole time and he didn’t even fucking notice, Buck might be dying and it’s his fault. “Let me the fuck out of here!”

Athena and Ravi share a look and Ravi heads out the door, calling for a nurse, but Eddie doesn’t care, he’s still yelling, still desperate, his free arm flailing, and he keeps yelling as a nurse rushes in and she’s holding a needle, and Eddie knows what’s happening this time.

“Please!” Eddie doesn’t beg often. He doesn’t like being at the mercy of others, much prefers threats and demands and harsh words, they’re less dangerous. But he begs now. He begs for Buck. “Please, I have to see him!”

Ravi looks devastated, but Athena just nods to the nurse, who injects whatever she’s holding into the IV that Eddie hadn’t even noticed. It’s fast acting, Eddie barely has time to choke out a betrayed sob before he’s gone again.

This time when he wakes up, it’s night. The cuffs are gone, and Ravi’s slumped in the chair, snoring softly. Whatever painkiller they’ve been giving him has worn off, leaving his ribs aching again, but his head clear. Clear enough to be properly ashamed of himself. Hell, Ravi was scared of him when he woke up the first time. He doesn’t quite know what’s gotten into him, but he still feels that panic, simmering under his skin, threatening to spill out, to explode.

He has to find Buck.

He leaves quietly, trying not to wake Ravi—why he’s still here is a mystery to Eddie—and asks the first nurse he sees where Buck’s room is. She interrogates him like he’s trying to enter the Pentagon, but after consulting with another nurse she relents, guiding him to a darkened room not far from his own. Eddie has never been more thankful to be Buck’s emergency contact, despite feeling thoroughly undeserving of the position.

“Do you know if he’s gonna be okay?” Eddie asks before she leaves.

The look she gives him is full of pity. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been a part of his care. I don’t know. I can find out for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice cracks and he wipes a hand across his mouth. “I just… thank you.” He steps through the door.

Buck looks soft, and quiet, and still pale even in the darkness. His left forearm is wrapped in a cast, his face is blank the way it only is when he’s about to die, and when Eddie takes his free hand, it’s cold. Buck is never cold, he’s a furnace, he radiates heat, Eddie had clung to him once he got out of that well, he’d been so cold but Buck hadn’t, Buck had been so warm, but now he’s cold, and Eddie just can’t stand it anymore. He kneels at the side of Buck’s bed, still clinging to his hand. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed, the guilt that lives in him now grows stronger because he has no right to be holding Buck’s hand, he’s nothing to Buck now, just the man who failed him, again.

“Buck…” He can barely hear himself, he doesn’t want to wake Buck up, even though he might not be able to, Buck might be sedated or in another fucking coma, or…Eddie still wants him to. He wants Buck to wake up and look at him, smile at him, laugh with him again. He wants Buck to wake up and be alive with him, to tease him and support him and tell him a million useless facts. Hell, he wants Buck to wake up and kiss him again, but he won’t. If he even wakes up, which…

It all washes over him, it’s like being shot again, and he can’t help it, he simply lays his head down by Buck’s side and cries, his free hand coming up to muffle the sounds of his sobs. He can’t go through this again, not now, not when he finally understands how much he’s really losing.

It was easier for Eddie to be in love with Buck when they were both conscious. It had felt like a fever, like something living just under his skin, but now it feels like that thing is clawing to get out, like he’s going to burn alive from the inside. Is this how it feels to love? Has Eddie misunderstood things this whole time, only imagined it with Shannon? Or is this just how it feels to love Buck? That seems more likely. It seems right to love Buck with a whirlwind, some silly yet all-consuming awe that feels like it’s constructed by poets and playwrights and God himself. That’s how Buck loves, after all, so it just makes sense that’s how he should be loved. Like it’s the end of the world. Eddie would like to be allowed to love Buck that way. Nobody else ever has. Buck has never been loved like he deserved, not even by his parents, and Eddie would be good at it, or he’d at least try to be. Eddie isn’t used to being enough, not for Shannon to stay or for his parents to believe in him, or for Christopher most of the time, but he’d like to try to be enough for Buck. Buck always made him feel like enough.

He isn’t, though. Never has been. Not enough for Buck to love him like he wants, not enough to keep Buck safe from all these people who want to hurt him, never enough to save Buck when he needs it. It’s a pattern of uselessness that started the moment Eddie joined the 118. Buck got crushed under a ladder truck and Eddie just had to stand there and watch, he was caught in a tsunami and Eddie didn’t even know, he got struck by lightning and Eddie was the one who sent him up the damn ladder, the one who wasn’t strong enough to pull him up, and when Buck was hurt, broken, bleeding internally, all Eddie could do was beg for Buck to save him.

Eddie’s disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be crying over Buck’s bedside like he has any right, like he’s anything to Buck. Eddie had his shot, he had his love, and he wasn’t able to save her either. Shannon died, and he couldn’t stop it, and he doesn’t get another chance. He didn’t even deserve that one in the first place.

Checking out of the hospital in the middle of the night is easier than Eddie expected—largely because no one saw him and no one stopped him—and he’s in an uber on the way home before he knows it. The guy tries to chat with him, but Eddie can’t make himself say anything, so they slide into silence until Eddie just manages to thank his driver before he gets out of the car.

His truck is still at the firehouse, and that might be the only reason he actually registers the car in his driveway, and it takes a second to recognize it as Pepa’s, which stirs some worry in him. She was supposed to be keeping Christopher until the end of Eddie’s shift, which technically hasn’t ended yet, so why would they be here? He hurries through the door, knowing that if anything is wrong with Christopher there will be no coming back, Eddie will be unfixable, they’ll have to fucking institutionalize him—

“Eddito.” Pepa meets him at the door, eyes full of compassion.

“Tia, is Chris okay?”

“Yes, Christopher is fine, Mijo. I saw the news, about your firehouse, and then you weren’t picking up your phone.”

“Dios, I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Eddie didn’t even think about Pepa finding out before he could talk to her. “I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

“Your captain’s wife called me, told me you were okay. She told me about Buck, too. I didn’t tell Christopher, I knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if I did. Is he going to be okay?”

Eddie just stands there, still barely inside the door, and he feels so small. “They don’t—” his voice breaks. “They don’t know for sure.”

“Oh, Mijo…” Pepa pulls Eddie down into a hug and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, like having his tia here, holding him, will make everything go away. She hugs him so hard that his ribs flare up again, and he winces but refuses to let go.

“I’m so sorry,” she continues. “This must be so hard for you, in a new relationship like this.”

“Wh—What?” Eddie pulls back, combing through his brain to try to find what he’s clearly missing in this conversation.

Pepa smiles at him, and for a second she looks like she’s about to apologize for something. “I know the two of you are dating. He called me asking about your favorite food. I’m sorry if I made you think you couldn’t tell me about it. I’m just happy you finally have someone. It’s exhausting trying to find people to set you up with.”

Eddie stares at her dumbly, still trying to catch up with the conversation. “Dati… Pepa, that wasn’t a real date.” As if he would ever go out with me for real.

“Oh. I see.” Pepa has the same look on her face that she always does before she scolds Eddie for something. “Does he know that?”

“Ye—Of course he does, he… It was all a… it was just a joke, he’s the one who started it in the first place. He didn’t… tell you any of that?” He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Buck called her in the first place.

Now Pepa’s looking at him like he’s an idiot. “No, Eddito. All he told me was that he was taking you out, and that it had to be absolutely perfect. He certainly didn’t make it sound like a joke.”

“No, that can’t be right. He just leaves stuff out sometimes. It’s gotten him in plenty of trouble before.”

“Well, I’m not the one who went on the date with him, so I guess you must be right.” She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press it. “Would you like me to stay here with you tonight?”

“No, Pepa, you don’t have to do that. We’ll be fine. Thank you for watching Chris.” Eddie steps away from the door, brain still whirling.

“Any time. You call me when you know anything about Buck, yes?”

Eddie nods, and Pepa leaves, and he’s alone again. He can’t stop thinking about what she said, and how much he wants it to be true. He wants, down to the very core of himself, to know what it is to be loved by Evan Buckley. He wants to be able to hold him, and cherish him, and be cherished in return. But even if that had a chance of happening, Buck would have to wake up. And thanks to Eddie, Evan Buckley might never wake up again.

Chapter Text

Every time the door to Buck’s hospital room opens, he expects it to be Eddie. It never is. He wakes up after surgery and Eddie isn’t there. They tell him that Bobby and Chimney are going to be just fine and Eddie isn’t there. They tell him that he broke his wrist, and Eddie isn’t there. They tell him that he was bleeding internally and it damaged his heart and Eddie isn’t there. They tell him he’s probably going to be okay, but they’ll have to keep him for several days to be sure. And Eddie isn’t there. Buck doesn’t know why. He feels like he’s falling, and Eddie isn’t there to catch him.

Nobody will tell him much about Eddie either. He asked, when he first woke up, and they’d all looked around like who’s gonna tell him? Then Maddie had taken his hand gently and told him that Eddie was fine, he’d checked out and gone home, and he was with Christopher. Athena had scoffed audibly at that, but refused to elaborate. It’s driving Buck crazy, especially after Bobby was finally able to visit him, because he’d apparently been on the phone with Eddie right before coming into Buck’s room, and Buck had been able to hear the tail-end of the conversation.

“—not even going to talk to him, then? Oh come on, Eddie, that’s ridiculous. Yeah, I got that when you vanished from the damn hospital in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea what happens at a hospital when someone just vanishes? It would’ve been stupid enough to check out AMA, but at least then you would’ve actually checked out! You’re only just now realizing this affects other people? Buck is your emergency contact, he almost had to deal with this right out of surgery! No, he doesn’t know. No, we aren’t doing your dirty work for you, tell him yourself.”

Buck hadn’t heard Bobby sound that mad in a long time, and what he was saying… Eddie left in the middle of the night? That… sounds like something Buck would do, not Eddie. And he knows that Eddie doesn’t owe Buck anything, and he can do whatever he wants, but it hurts. Buck is in the hospital, and Eddie isn’t there, and Buck doesn’t know why. It’s like he’s a kid again, checked into the hospital and hurting and wondering why the people he loves most aren’t there with him. Not that he says anything about that to everyone who does bother to come visit him, because he does love seeing them, they do make him feel better, but they don’t stop him from desperately running through every possibility for why Eddie would be avoiding him. Chris isn’t. Chris comes to visit him in the hospital the day after he wakes up, and Buck feels horrible for not being able to hide the disappointment on his face when it’s Carla who comes in behind him and not Eddie. They don’t mention him either and Buck stops asking pretty quickly because every time someone gives him that pitying look it hurts a little more.

The one good thing about being in the hospital during all this is that he has a lot of stuff to distract him. Like the whole-body ache that won’t go away, the fact that he’s broken his wrist for the second time in his life, or the small cardiac events that keep waking his brain up in a “we’re dying” panic several times a night. His doctor tells him it’s nothing to worry about yet but he is now at a much higher risk of a heart attack than anyone his age should be. Which is just great.

By the fourth day in the hospital, Buck is going crazy. They want to keep him there, but Buck threatens to leave anyway which works… better than he expected, actually. He owes that to Eddie, probably. His doctor agrees to hook him up to a portable heart monitor—which turns out to be this box that he’s going to have to carry around with him everywhere he goes—and explains to him that the monitor is going to alert him every time his heart does something it isn’t supposed to, but he only needs to come back to the hospital if one very specific beep sounds. They make him repeat everything they told him several times before they let him go, and then he’s trudging out the doors, cast on one hand, heart monitor in the other, feeling so pissed off he could cry and trying not to take it out on Maddie as she drives him home.

He texts Eddie on the way, telling him that he’s out of the hospital and Eddie’s welcome to come by any time if he wants. Eddie opens it immediately, but he doesn’t answer. It makes Buck want to throw his whole phone out the window, to scream and cry and throw a tantrum until Eddie finally talks to him again.

Maddie offers to stay with Buck for a couple days, but when he tells her not to, she doesn’t protest even half as much as she usually would. Buck gets it. If Eddie had been through what Chimney had been through, Buck wouldn’t leave his side. He tries not to think about the fact that the feeling is apparently not mutual.

“Do you think I did something?” He finally asks Maddie over the Thai food she brings him the next evening in her daily check-up.

“Like what, fall off an overpass?” Maddie has been growing more and more visibly annoyed by Eddie’s absence with every day that goes by.

“Maddie.” Buck appreciates having someone so steadfastly on his side, but sometimes it doesn’t make for the most constructive conversations.

“Look I just don’t understand how he went from having to be sedated because he wouldn’t stop fighting to get to you to leaving the hospital in the dead of night just to get away,” Maddie says.

“What?” Buck freezes. “Sedated? What are you talking about?”

Maddie looks like she’s said something she wasn’t supposed to. “Buck…”

“Maddie, c’mon. Tell me.”

She sighs. “According to Athena, after you collapsed, Eddie was the first one by your side, but… he was still erratic and in pain, he was in no place to be trying to help you. But when people started trying to pull him back so the other paramedics could get you loaded up? He kind of… lost it. Started screaming, reaching for you, and then he punched one of the guys holding him back. Broke his nose, Chim says. That’s when they sedated him.”

Buck can only gape. Eddie? Cool, calm, collected Eddie? His Eddie? That doesn’t make any sense, Eddie never loses it like that, Buck is the rash one, the loose cannon, he’s the one that has to be contained, not Eddie.

“You see what I mean? Like, how do you go from that to not even visiting somebody in the hospital?”

Buck could imagine a million reasons why. “What if I really did make him uncomfortable on the date? I mean he seemed fine the next morning, but we weren’t there very long before we got called out to the overpass. What if I did something wrong? I mean, that’s the only thing that’s really happened with us recently. Or—” A new thought overtakes him. “What if he's just tired of having to baby me? I mean, I’m sure tired of having to be babied. He was around a lot after the lightning strike, and that was just a couple months ago, maybe he just doesn’t have it in him to do that again.” Maybe he’s finally tired of me. Buck’s always been a lot, always been high maintenance, no matter how hard he tries not to be. Eddie’s already lasted longer than a lot of people, and Buck’s thankful for that. But he’d been letting himself believe that it was going to last. That he’d have Eddie forever.

“If that’s the case—If either of those things are the case, then he’s an idiot.” Maddie rests her hand over Buck’s cast, which has already been signed by everyone who’s been to visit him. The space Christopher left for Eddie to sign taunts Buck, bright white and mocking. Buck turns his arm over so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore.

“How’s Chimney?” It’s a horribly obvious attempt to change the subject, but Maddie allows it.

“Also frustrated to be off the job, but healing nicely. Asking about you just as much as you ask about him.” Maddie watches him for a second in that horribly knowing big sister way she has. “You’re still welcome to come stay with us, if you want. Jee would be happy to have her Uncle Buck around.”

Buck shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t wanna put you guys out. Besides, I’m supposed to be taking it easy, and you and I both know I can’t say no to Jee. She could ask me to run around your house until I pass out and I’d do it.”

Maddie smiles. “Yeah,” she says, “I understand that. I just worry about you, here alone.”

It’s Buck’s turn to take Maddie’s hand now. “Don’t,” he says. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m taking care of myself.” Maddie looks like she’ll believe that when she sees it, but she doesn’t press. They just finish their Thai food and Maddie goes home and Buck’s sitting on his couch staring at his godforsaken heart monitor again.

He’s already almost yanked the sensors off his chest multiple times because he forgot to pick up the machine itself when he was going somewhere, and it’s driving him crazy. Between the monitor and the cast, Buck has all but decided to just not shower for two weeks, and he feels pathetic and helpless and alone. He feels so alone. He wishes Eddie would just tell him what he’s done. He’d fix it, somehow, he’d figure it out, if Eddie would just let him. He just needs a chance.

But maybe he’s run out of chances, so he puts on his warmest hoodie, piles three blankets on his lap, and watches cooking shows to try not to think about it. He has three minor cardiac events just sitting there, but none of them meet the criteria the hospital gave him for when he should call himself an ambulance. He knows he should be relieved, but every time something happens he just gets more annoyed. He’s tired of being fragile, tired of having to be taken care of. It’s a relief, honestly, that everyone has more important things to do than hang around him, because he’s always been a horrible patient and he’s sure he’s gotten even worse now. He’s just sitting there, stewing in his own misery and abandonment, hands shoved under his thighs because his fingers haven’t been warm since the overpass, constantly feeling like he’s about to either cry or punch something, and desperate not to do either. This tenuous grasp on calm lasts him until just before midnight, when he just can’t do it anymore, he feels like he’s about to explode and there’s only one thing he can possibly fix, so he’s got to try.

Chapter Text

It's past midnight in the middle of the heaviest downpour Eddie’s ever seen that Buck shows up on his doorstep. Christopher has been asleep for hours, and Eddie’s spent most of that time cleaning, though he should’ve been asleep by now. It’s been five days since he left the hospital, and he’s been on medical leave, but he does still have a kid to take care of. Unfortunately, even without how much his ribs hurt, he wouldn’t be able to sleep, so he’s not even trying when he hears the knock.

At first he considers not answering. Pretty much everyone in his life has come by his house to bang on his front door and tell him he’s a fucking idiot and he needs to stop hiding. Eddie, of course, has been very mature about it and keeps pretending he isn’t home. He’d been answering his phone, but after Bobby yelled at him that seemed like a bad idea too, so he hasn’t really talked to anyone other than Christopher for three days. But he can’t avoid everyone forever, so he opens the door. He assumes it’s Hen or Maddie, which leaves him dumbfounded when he sees Buck, soaking wet and hunched over something he’s shoved under the hoodie he’s wearing. Eddie’s still inside the door, they aren’t in the same places at all, but he feels like he’s back in that moment six days ago, daring Buck to kiss him. Eddie has spent the last days carefully taping himself back together, hiding away all the broken jagged parts that falling for Buck has left exposed, but he must’ve not been doing a very good job because the second he sees Buck again, everything cracks open and he’s right back where he started. His greatest fear has come true. He’s never going to feel normal again. And he’s been standing here staring like an idiot.

“Buck?” He looks exhausted, and despite it being late spring, he’s shivering. “What are you doing here?” Eddie knew Buck was home from the hospital, had been trying to think of something to say to him for the past day and a half, but he’s still pretty sure Buck shouldn’t just be out and about like this. There isn’t even a car out front, he must have gotten an uber, which feels crazy.

“You won’t talk to me.” Buck’s watching Eddie, blue eyes so intense and pleading that Eddie can’t look at him anymore, he has to look away, and it’s only once he does that he realizes that Buck’s still standing in the pouring rain and he steps back, gesturing Buck inside. He’s not sure what to say. Buck isn’t wrong, Eddie hasn’t been talking to him. He doesn’t know how, doesn’t know what to possibly say. He wants to apologize, but knows that “I’m sorry” doesn’t even begin to cover the ways that Eddie’s failed him.

“Why won’t you talk to me, what did I do?” Buck’s still shivering, and Eddie’s pretty sure his teeth are chattering, and at least that’s something he can fix.

“Come on, lets get you into some dry clothes.” Eddie reaches for Buck’s arm, but Buck dodges out of reach. He has that look in his eyes again, the one Eddie hates, the one that makes him look like a dog that’s been taken back to the pound too many times. He finally pulls his arm out from under his shirt, revealing his cast—Eddie catches Chris’s sloppy signature across the back of it—and a machine about the size of a radio, wires trailing off it, reaching under Buck’s shirt. He must’ve been trying to keep it dry.

“What—” Eddie doesn’t want to know what it’s for but he has to ask.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” Buck demands again.

“I’m talking to you right now, Buck, will you please let me help you—”

“No!” Buck snaps, actually snaps at him, and Eddie flinches. “I don’t need your help, that’s not what I came here for.” It hurts, though Eddie knows he deserves it. What right does he have to take care of Buck anymore? He just can’t help it, can’t stand to see Buck standing there wet and cold and not be able to do anything about it, it makes his skin crawl.

“Then what did you come here for?” He’s snapping now too, he shouldn’t, he knows that, but if he doesn’t he’ll just cry, and he definitely can’t do that. “Why are you here, Buck, just to make me feel bad? Is that it?”

“I just—I wanna fix it, Eddie, can we… can we just fix this?” Buck is begging and Eddie’s heart shatters. He wants to, desperately, Eddie wants it to have never been broken in the first place, but he’s just never been good enough before, he’s sure he isn’t going to start now. Of course Buck wants to fix it, wants to forgive him, because Buck is good. But Eddie isn’t. And he might not ever be, and it’s time to stop pretending any different.

“I don’t know if I can.”

It goes through Buck like a shot, Eddie can see it, and he feels even more like a monster than he did five seconds ago. “I’m sorry,” he rushes on, “I just don’t… I don’t think…”

“Eddie please…”

“Buck we can’t.” Fuck, he’s going to cry, he can’t cry, not in front of Buck. He has to keep it together, has to be strong.

“No, I promise, I can do better, I—”

“But I can’t!” It’s too loud, and both of them freeze. God, if Chris woke up and comes out here, Eddie doesn’t know what he’ll do. But after a second, he doesn’t hear anything, so he lowers his voice and continues. “I can’t do better, so just… cut your losses.” Eddie doesn’t know why Buck’s so determined to cling to people who only take from him, who don’t really love him, but he’s done being one of those people. He has no idea how that’s going to work, if he’s going to have to transfer out of the 118, but he won’t be another problem in Buck’s life. He’s going down, and he knows better than to drag Buck down with him.

“No…” Buck’s still shivering. “I don’t… I don’t want to cut my losses, I want you, so just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, I promise, you just have to tell me.” Buck reaches out with his casted hand, running his fingers down Eddie’s bare arm, and when Eddie shudders he doesn’t think it’s because Buck is cold. “Please,” Buck whispers. He’s pleading.

“There’s nothing for you to do. It’s me, and you can’t fix me. No one can fix me.” Eddie reaches up and takes Buck’s fingers in his hand. He means to move them away, to drop them, to break the contact, but he can’t let go.

Something flashes across Buck’s eyes, a glint that usually precedes a reckless decision that someone’s going to yell at him for later. “I don’t want to fix you. You’re perfect.” He’s looking at Eddie like he did on their date, like he’s everything, and Eddie can’t breathe.

“I’m not,” he whispers.

Buck pulls his hand from Eddie’s and brings it up to Eddie’s cheek. “You are to me.” And Buck kisses him. It’s not like their first kiss. That kiss was sweetness and heat and tender biting lies. This one’s gentle, but desperate. Buck’s mouth moves against Eddie’s like they’re still arguing, like he’s trying to convince Eddie of something, and when he pulls back he’s still got that pleading look in his eyes.

“What…”

“I love you.” Buck says, like it’s just that simple. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I… I can live without your love, Eddie, but don’t make me live without your friendship, please, don’t make me do it.” Buck’s hand is still on Eddie, the cast rough against his unshaven cheek, and his face is only a few inches away.

“You… You love me?” It’s incomprehensible. Buck. Brave, beautiful, strong Buck. Love Eddie? Eddie, the mess, the charity case, the disaster, the pile of anger issues and harsh words and mistakes. It doesn’t make any sense.

“I love you, and maybe I’m crazy but it’s almost been feeling like…like you love me too. And if nothing else that I say is… is gonna get through to you, then maybe this will. Please, Eddie.”

There’s water dripping on Eddie’s socks. “But I’m…”

“I don’t care.”

Something starts unfurling in Eddie and he can’t let it. “You don’t want me.”

“Trust me,” Buck whispers, looking Eddie dead in the eyes, not letting him look away. “I’m your partner, you have to trust me, let me do this. Let me jump. Jump with me. You always have before.”

“I…” Eddie’s spent the last five days telling himself he isn’t good enough for Buck, that he never could be. Now Buck is telling him otherwise, promising him, but Buck’s never been a great judge of character in the people he chooses to love, there’s no reason to believe this is the exception. It doesn’t matter. Eddie’s never been good at saying no to Buck. He kisses him. The noise Buck makes lights Eddie on fire, he’s burning from the inside out but he can’t let Buck go, his hand trailing up his hoodie, sliding over the bumps of the wires under the wet material and coming to rest at his cheeks, pulling Buck closer into him, and Buck gives as good as he gets, even with only half a hand. They break apart again and Buck is grinning, and his eyes are wet, and Eddie can’t help but smile back, because Buck loves him. Buck loves him. And Eddie is just selfish enough to let him.

“I’m pretty sure I love you too,” he says. Buck shudders, and Eddie doesn’t know if it’s from his confession or the cold, but it doesn’t matter. “Will you please let me get you into some dry clothes? You’re freezing.” Eddie slides his arms down from Buck’s face to his arms.

“That’s the blood loss. And the heart problems. But dry clothes would probably help,” Buck relents. Eddie’s gut twists and he’s reminded how little he actually knows about Buck’s condition since he’s been avoiding everyone.

“Heart?” Eddie’s own heart plummets, now he’s feeling cold too.

Buck shrugs. “All the internal bleeding… did some damage. And it already wasn’t at a hundred percent since the lightning strike. That’s, uh, what this is for, actually.” Buck holds up the machine in his hand. “Heart monitor. Mostly as a precaution, but it’s equipped with a defibrillator just in case, and warns me anytime my heart starts doing something it isn’t supposed to.”

“You let them saddle you with that?” Eddie has a hard time believing it, knowing how little Buck likes to abide by medical advice.

“It was the only way they’d let me leave the hospital. Besides, it’s only two weeks. I’ll live.” Buck says it like it’s nothing, like it’s just a joke, but that’s what finally breaks Eddie. He’s going to live. Eddie starts to cry.

“Oh, Eddie, hey. Hey, it’s okay.” Buck pulls Eddie into a hug and Eddie doesn’t fight it, even when his ribs protest, he just wraps his arms around Buck and sobs. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, trying to live without Buck. He’s not sure how he ever did it in the first place, and he doesn’t ever want to do it again, not if he doesn’t have to. He’ll figure out a way to deserve it.

“Okay,” Eddie says, finally pulling away, “if we don’t get you changed you’re going to catch something. C’mon.” He wipes his face with one hand and pulls Buck down the hall with the other, leaving a small puddle behind them.

As soon as they’re through the door of Eddie’s bedroom, he starts rooting around in the pile of laundry he’s been meaning to get around to for a while now, pulling a hoodie out of it and turning back to Buck, who’s set his monitor on top of Eddie’s dresser and looks very relieved about it.

“Here. And—” As soon as Buck takes the hoodie, Eddie opens his dresser drawer and pulls out his biggest pair of cut-off sweats.

“Oh I’m not worth a clean hoodie, now?” Buck says, smiling as he starts trying to pull off his wet clothes.

“It’s…” Eddie didn’t think this through. “Well, it’s yours. Left it here a while ago, I never got around to getting it back.”

Buck halts, elbow halfway out of his sleeve, already tangled beyond belief. “You’ve… been wearing it?”

Exclusively. “Maybe.” It’s embarrassing, but Buck’s grin is worth it. Mostly.

“Now get that stuff off so I can put it in the dryer,” Eddie says, stepping forward to help Buck extricate himself from the damp hoodie.

“Not how I imagined you undressing me the first time,” Buck grumbles as his head pops back up and he relinquishes his hoodie over to Eddie.

“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have come over in the rain.” Eddie determinedly keeps his eyes on Buck’s face as Buck changes his wet pants out for the dry ones Eddie gave him.

“Wasn’t my smartest move. But I had to see you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Buck hands Eddie his sweats and is about to say something else when his monitor starts beeping and Eddie nearly dies on the spot. “Are you okay?” He lunges forward, brought up short by Buck’s placating hand.

“It’s okay, I’m fine, just…” His breathing is shallower. “I’m not supposed to do anything strenuous, or cause any excitement if I can help it, and… Well, this has been pretty exciting. Just let me sit down, I’ll be okay.” Buck reaches for his monitor but Eddie snatches it before he can, walking with Buck over to the bed, where Buck sits, leaning against the headboard, eyes closed.

“Everything’s okay, Eddie, I promise. Trust me, they played the sound that means I have to panic, and it’s much more grating than this one. Just let me… Let me rest a second.” Buck rests his head on his shoulder, and Eddie’s not entirely convinced, but Buck does seem more tired than dying, and he did just promise to trust Buck, after all, so he kisses Buck on the forehead and takes the wet clothes to the laundry room, starting the dryer in record time and hurrying back. In the time he’s been gone, the beeping has stopped and Buck has burrowed under the blankets until only his curls poke out from the pile.

“Don’t let me fall asleep here,” he mumbles when he hears Eddie come in.

“Why not?” Eddie honestly hadn’t even considered that leaving again was part of Buck’s plan.

“Christopher’s here, he can’t just wake up one day with some random guy in his dad’s bed.”

Eddie snorts and walks over to the side of the bed. “Stick your cast out here, I need to check how wet it is.” Buck complies, and Eddie takes it, talking as he investigates.

“You’re not exactly some random guy, Buck. Chris would be thrilled to have you here when he wakes up. And so would I.” Eddie’s eyes flick up in spite of himself, and he catches Buck’s gaze from the one eye peeking out from under the comforter. They look at each other for a beat, then Eddie lets go.

“It’s dryer than I expected. I think you’re fine for now but you should probably call your doctor tomorrow just to be sure.”

Buck heaves a great sigh, which is about what Eddie expected. “Are you still cold?”

Buck nods, then the skin around his eyes crinkles in a smile. “I think I know something that could warm me up.”

“You are impossible.” But Eddie can’t pretend, not anymore, so he crawls into bed behind Buck, pulling the other man into his arms, trying not to shudder as all the warmth gets sucked out of his body when Buck presses back into him. Buck sighs again, contented this time, and Eddie smiles, pressing a kiss to Buck’s shoulder before he can think better of it. They lay like that, tangled together, for a few minutes in silence before Buck speaks again.

“Why didn’t you visit me?” he asks. His voice is quiet, and scared, and Eddie’s grip around him tightens involuntarily. He’d been afraid of this question, even before Buck showed up tonight, but he thinks maybe he can tell the truth now, in the darkness.

“I did,” he says. “Before you woke up, I… I went to see you. I’d been trying to get to you all day, but they wouldn’t let me, and finally seeing you again…” Eddie shudders at the memory. “I’m sorry I left. I should’ve been there when you woke up.”

“You’ll be there when I wake up tomorrow,” Buck says. It isn’t a question, and it feels a little like forgiveness.

“Yeah. And as many mornings as you want me to be.”

Buck doesn’t answer, Eddie’s pretty sure he’s fading fast. It doesn’t matter though. Eddie can see the top of his pile of books in the corner, still pressing the flowers from their date. Their first date. He’s going to have to come clean to Buck eventually that he preserved them. He thinks it might make Buck happy. That’s all Eddie’s ever wanted, really. To make Buck happy. He thinks maybe he does.