Archive of Our Own ^beta

Buck turns the television off with a flick of the remote. He glances wearily at the outfit splayed over the back of the couch. With a glance at the time, he affirms that he should have started getting ready about 20 minutes ago if he still wanted to be on time.

Buck is admittedly procrastinating a bit… If he's perfectly honest, he'd rather snooze on the couch for another two hours than parade himself around at some fancy restaurant. But the 118's A-Shift heavy rescue team had been invited to some fancy dinner at a high scale restaurant by the Chief of LAFD himself for their 'bravery' during what had been a sneeze away from an international crisis. So Buck really didn't have a choice in the matter.

It will be the first time in nearly two months that the entire team will be back at the station, beginning on Thursday. It's also the first time Buck has felt like he could breathe since the incident on that fateful afternoon—it went down in the books as by far one of the scariest days of his entire life. There had been a few terrifying hours when Buck thought he was going to lose more than three-quarters of his family in one fell swoop.

Those first few weeks following the incident were more than a little hectic. Especially since Chimney, Hen, and Bobby had all been stuck in the hospital recovering or enduring physical therapy. Ravi and Buck had been the first two to return to work. Chimney followed a few weeks later, Bobby hot on his heels, and eventually Hen who will join them starting next week.

Usually, Buck would look forward to a big get-together with his team and with his family—but Buck would have preferred it be in Bobby and Athena's backyard rather than attend some fanciful affair where he stuck out like a sore thumb, and the food was too expensive, and his outfit had a little too much starch to be comfortable.

Public niceties, though, were apparently inevitable when you and your team helped stop a biological terrorist attack. Something that also occasionally incurred the wrath of the United States Military—who, despite their heroism, had pressed charges of biological terrorism against 118's heavy rescue team due to their apparent 'gross misconduct,' 'disobeyal of direct orders,' and 'evading local and federal law enforcement by helicopter.' Buck had argued that they were not soldiers but public servants. He'd been quickly frog-marched away from the army colonel by Athena and Ravi.

To the Los Angeles Fire Department's credit though, they'd called in the city of Los Angeles to their aid, and together they'd managed to sort out the slew of charges behind the scenes. There had been an argument to be made that the 118 had acted heroically, you know, since they had sort of saved the world from a new and insanely dangerous pandemic-inducing virus.

A journalist who had gotten involved in the private dispute threatened to go public with the Army's charges and threats, asking how they felt about a significant outcry against the ruling when public perception became an element. When it comes to journalism, there is a simple truth: if you're not willing to get raked over the coals, don't punish your heroes. It also significantly helped that everything that happened in that underground lab was deeply classified, which meant the US government couldn't risk a public trial that could risk world relations.

LAFD used the positive press and the near sacrifice their public servants made to their advantage, rallying and gaining favor from the community, who donated in droves. As part of the drive for publicity, the 118 had been formally honored in an award ceremony at the station. Buck, although he loved a good award ceremony, was simply thankful the entire team made it out on the other side of the incident intact. Mostly intact, at least.

While his team had suffered within their glass prison, Buck was frantic with fear and worry. And if he hadn't had Athena, Karen, and Lucy at his side, he's not sure how differently the night might have gone. He mostly tries not to think about it.

Buck sighs softly, glancing at the suit again. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, worrying it between his teeth in consideration. It will be nice to be reunited with his team, even if it was some stupid fancy dress event. And almost everyone would be there, since all of them were allowed a spouse or significant other at the event. Once upon a time he would have loved this sort of thing.

Buck's reservations are fairly transparent if he's being realistic with himself. There is a pit of dread that weighs heavy in his stomach when he thinks about Eddie, sitting at home, trapped in El Paso, more than a thousand miles away. But his inconvenient location is also the reason that Eddie too hadn't been trapped on the other side of that glass prison that fateful night. If Eddie had been present that night, it might have been Buck's final straw. For that reason, he's grateful, just this once, that Eddie hadn't been around.

Still, it feels wrong to attend some fancy boring event without his best friend and partner in crime at his side. It's similar to the feeling he gets every day on the job, without Eddie attached at the hip on various calls reading his mind before he even has the thought—not to mention their tandem chores. He loves Ravi, of course he does, but it's still a bit of an adjustment. And he isn't Eddie.

Buck has decided that rather than finding a last-minute date that he really didn't have the energy to entertain, he will be attending stag. Deciding that it's in his own best interest to take his sister's advice to heart—it was time to learn to be 'seriously' alone. The last few months, though, Buck thinks 'being alone' isn't much different than any of his other lapses in relationships. He's spent most of his life alone—but Buck knows that Maddie's advice was well intentioned—he's aware that occasionally he allows himself to get too wrapped up in his relationships, losing himself along the way. Especially when the relationship is one to his own detriment. But to Buck's credit, he's been working on that with Dr. Copeland.

He'd restarted his sessions with her after Eddie left. It was perfect timing since a week or two later, Bobby, Hen, and Chim had almost died, and Buck himself had nearly gone to actual prison for defying a colonel in the US Army.

And anyways, things with his first boyfriend, Nicolas, had made one thing extremely clear to Buck. He caught himself comparing every aspect of his romantic relationships to his friendship with Eddie. Dr. Copeland had brought to his attention that Buck tends to do that with any of his relationships, romantic or otherwise, pointing out that he had a very special bond with his best friend, so it would never be possible for another soul to meet that self-appointed standard. Buck had to take a few weeks to digest that information before he was able to show his face in another session. She wasn't wrong; Buck scrutinized everyone against Eddie, which is exactly why no one else ever stood a fighting chance. Eddie and Chris, no matter Buck's romantic relationships, always remained his number one priority, and he couldn't see that changing ever.

The factual statement from Dr. Copeland about his relationships had changed his perspective on everything, tilting the world on its axis. The world made a little more sense; at the same time, the world made a little less sense. One thing is certain: Buck is in love with Eddie, which still, makes so much sense but so little sense. How hadn't he seen it all those years ago? It was always there lurking under the surface, he'd gotten close to understanding those complex feelings after Eddie had been shot in front of him, when Buck had tasted his blood.

Since his stark realization that he is completely fucked and completely head over heels for his best friend, he's desperately been trying to keep this information under wraps, even from Maddie and Hen. And especially from Eddie. Obviously. How is he supposed to just exist with the secret that his straight best friend was it for him looming over him 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365.2425 days in a year? There was no one else. And there never would be.

He's never said it aloud to anyone, even Dr. Copeland, although he suspects she knows he's finally put the pieces together in the right order. Buck has barely even admitted it to himself. It's a bittersweet and difficult truth.

Buck sheds his gym shorts in favor of the slacks that fit his form perfectly—they're the first pants he's ever had tailored to his significantly long legs. Next he pulls on a silky smooth dress shirt and shrugs into his suit jacket. He tosses the tie he'd set out over the back of the couch, then grabs his keys and heads for the door. When he glances at the clock on the way out, it says he's running further behind than he'd intended to arrive, nearly fashionably late.

On the way out the door, he glances over his shoulder. Like Eddie might suddenly appear to join him, grumbling affectionately about how late Buck was making them. His best friend, though, is still in Texas and blissfully ignorant of Buck's newly realized feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. He is relieved that he won't be the only member of the 118 heavy rescue team going stag tonight, since Ravi will be there too.

Once Buck reaches the venue, he waits in the parking lot, watching for his friends to approach the building, finally working up the nerve to slide out of his Jeep Wrangler and join them. Just as Buck is reaching the crosswalk, Buck notices Lucy approaching with a beautiful woman on her arm who Buck is certain he recognizes, although he doesn't instantly place her face. He pauses and waits for them before hitting the crosswalk button, which reminds them all to wait in its little robotic voice.

"Buck!" Lucy exclaims with a beam, giving him a crushing hug.

He wasn't surprised to see her tonight, since she'd assisted him and Athena in transporting the woman attempting to smuggle and sell the cure to the highest bidder. Lucy graciously shuttled Buck and his prisoner from the top of the office building to the field where the military forced them to land. Lucy had given him that cocky grin as the military formally arrested them, reminding him too much of himself for comfort. But Buck can admit that it had been a pretty sweet adrenaline rush, even if he couldn't enjoy it in the moment. His worry for his family overshadowing everything else.

"Have you two met before? This is my girlfriend, Julie Rosen."

Julie sends Buck a sly smile. "We've met. Eddie brought him as his date to a poker game a few years back.

The word "date" sticks in his brain and plays again and again like a broken record. Buck blushes an undoubtedly embarrassing shade of red. His words, if gibberish could be considered words, come out unsteady—it's more of a splutter of disbelief than an actual sentence.

The pair of women smile at him, as if endeared by his fumbling and obvious embarrassment. Buck is relieved when the sign finally gives pedestrians the right of way. He immediately rushes across the street without looking in either direction. He's feeling a little too seen by their matching soft smiles, as if they could reveal the very depths of his heart and soul with a single tender grin. Buck's half worried his big confession might pour from his lips unbidden if either of them looked at him for too long, as if their kindness was a truth serum.

Before the small group reaches the steps of the restaurant, an approaching figure catches Buck's eye, and Lucy cheerfully calls out a greeting to Ravi, who has a toothy smile stretched over his mouth, revealing each one of his perfect white teeth.

Buck is about to make some sort of joke, but it's lost to him when he notices the gorgeous woman walking beside him in a long, beautiful dress. "Ravi?" Buck says, wide-eyed with disbelief.

"Hm. Wow, Buckley. You actually clean up nice." Ravi teases with a deadpan expression, giving Buck an exaggerated thoughtful once-over.

"Don't sound so surprised," Buck manages to say, barely managing not to pout. "Nice to meet you, I'm Buck!"

There is a sparkle in the woman's eyes as she gives Buck an actual once-over, which is enough to make him conscious. "Glad to finally meet you. Ravi has waxed a few poetics."

Ravi sends her a scandalized expression. Buck is unable to fight down the delighted grin that spreads over his face when he glances at mortified Ravi. "Buck, this is Anmol."

"You have a girlfriend—a supermodel of a girlfriend at that—and I've never heard of her or even met her before?" Buck says in incredulity.

"Is it true you chased him with a chainsaw?" Anmol asks Buck eagerly.

Ravi scoffs, wrapping an arm around her, "If you all weren't so damn nosy—you know what, I've earned some level of mystery. Also, put some respect on her name. That's my fiancée."

Buck glances between the two of them, unable to signify Ravi's announcement with a response. "I miss his probie days. Now if I chased him around with a chainsaw, it would be considered workplace harassment instead of hazing. Exchange embarrassing stories about Ravi with me?"

Anmol beams at Buck and pulls away from Ravi, sliding her arm around Buck's proffered elbow, allowing him to open the door and lead her inside, earning a yelp from her fiancé, who follows hot on their heels, earning laughs from Lucy and Julie.

Their group is directed to a discrete door that leads into an event space where they all disperse. Buck makes an immediate beeline to where Bobby is standing with Maddie, interrupting their conversation to gossip about Ravi and his fiancée, and biting his tongue when he thinks about just how bad it made him miss Eddie.

Athena arrives shortly before Karen and Hen, watching her sweep across the room to greet Bobby—her best friend—Buck keenly feels that Eddie-sized hole in his chest again. He pushes down on it, opting instead to pull out his phone and tap out a quick text. He hesitates a few moments before shooting off the message, hoping he doesn't sound overly needy and obnoxious.

Buck: I miss you :(

He waits a few moments before shoving his phone back into his pocket when he's certain there aren't bubbles immediately returning the message. Watching the screen for Eddie's response would feel a touch too pathetic and like an exercise in public humiliation, so he quickly turns back to the ongoing conversation.

When the LAFD Chief arrives, everyone settles in around the table, and Buck tries not to feel too self-conscious about the empty chair on his left.

"I never knew you were such a good poker player, Buckley." The assistant chief is chuckling, she casts a glace to Julie, who had been recounting the night of him and Eddie's "poker date" while they waited for the wait staff to take their drink orders.

"Wait, Eddie plays poker?" Karen inquires, shaking her head back with an affectionate smile. "Every time I hear anything about that guy, it sounds like he's simultaneously living 12 separate lives. How does he have time for so many hobbies?"

Buck chuckles, "Yeah, the poker thing was pretty short-lived for me."

"Buck wasn't invited back after cleaning us all out," Julie teases. "We told Eddie in no uncertain terms once I heard you had superpowers from being struck by lightning!"

"You know, it doesn't seem fair that some people get to keep their new skills!" Buck complains, wagging his finger. "I got struck by lightning and died for a few minutes. It's like the least the universe could do for me, giving me a new permanent math skill."

"So you're saying I should have you back for poker again sometime soon," the chief jokes.

"I got struck by lightning, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt," Chim jokingly complains, earning a peal of laughter around the table.

"I didn't even get that!" Buck exclaims, earning even more laughter.

"Sorry, can someone explain how Eddie even ended up involved in underground LAFD poker games?" Hen inquires affectionately but totally puzzled.

"Well, it started when someone from Mehta's station ran into Eddie at the club," Lucy begins to explain.

"Can we go back? Why the hell was Eddie of all people at the club?" Chimney remarks, humor threaded into his question.

"That part is obvious. He was with Buck," Lucy clarifies with an eye-roll. The answer seems to satisfy everyone in the room. Buck feels his cheeks go warm, feeling the sudden need to reanalyze his entire relationship with Eddie. Was it just him, or does everyone tonight keep implying that their relationship was just over the line of friends—the 118 included? Buck swears he's been hiding his feelings better than that. He hasn't even seen Lucy or Julie since the realization steamrolled him like a freight train, and that was, like, recent!

"Every once in a while, Eddie allows me to drag him out when Chris is having a sleepover. We're not cool enough for him to host anymore, apparently," Buck jokes.

"Speaking of," Chief Simpson says, turning his full attention on Buck. "I was surprised you didn't bring your husband along this evening."

Buck flounders, repeating Chief Simpson's words in his head once, twice, three times—each time they sound a little more nonsensical. "My husband?" Buck echoes in utter confusion.

The Chief, though, doesn't seem to hear Buck's confusion or notice the equal confusion spread over Buck's friends' and families' faces. His voice is warm, kind, and conversational. "I know that Firefighter Diaz was out of town at the time, but I assumed he'd still tag along with you this evening.

Buck feels his jaw go slack, his face is hot, and his skin is itchy. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, wondering if he's visibly half as red as he feels. There's a peal of raucous laughter around the table. Buck stares at Chief Simpson dumbfounded. Was this some elaborate prank, or does Chief Simpson truly believe that Eddie-Fucking-Diaz is Buck's honest-to-god husband? Or maybe Buck was simply in the midst of a stroke or mental health crisis. But he thinks Hen would be looking slightly more alarmed right now, if that was the case.

Also, based on the tears that his sister is presently wiping from her cheeks, he's pretty sure his humiliation is in fact happening in 4K. Buck is torn between wanting to melt through the floor and existing within that moment forever.

The Battalion Chief, Miranda Williams, casts a curious look around the table. "Wait—is Firefighter Diaz not Buckley's husband? Are we out of the loop on this?"

"Wait, is that even allowed?" Ravi asks, still laughing at Buck's expense along with the rest of the 118. Buck has now dropped his eyes to his empty plate and is continuing to furiously blush.

"Well, typically it's completely up to the captain of each station," Simpson explains. "Since your Captain Nash here has such a good handle on the team, we never thought it was a problem." His voice goes up in a lilting question. "Was I completely mistaken on your status?" Chief says.

"You two aren't married? We were all at the same poker game where your man Diaz kept giving you heart eyes the entire time. Or was I just seeing things?" The Battalion Chief exclaims, voice pitching upward with mirth and disbelief. "And you were just talking about your son like two minutes ago!"

"Oh, Chris isn't—" Buck says weakly. He glances around the table for someone, anyone, who might throw him a lifeline. Instead his gaze lands on Lucy, who looks so fucking smug it makes Buck want to die of embarrassment.

"He looks just like you," Lucy says, making her voice go up in mock surprise. Lucy, who absolutely knows better. Lucy, his bisexual-in-crime who has now betrayed him.

Buck wants to squeak out something to the nature of explaining that Eddie was simply just his very straight best friend and that at most they were platonic soulmates, but his vocal cords seem to have frozen up. Buck is somewhat thankful because that was possibly a gayer explanation than if he were actually married to Eddie.

"You know, it's actually funny that you mention Eddie," Bobby remarks as the laughter starts to die down.

Buck's eyes dart over to his captain, who is looking down at his watch rather than making eye contact with Buck. He feels himself blushing all over again. Buck wonders how it's possible that Bobby knows about Buck and Eddie's usual FaceTime call at 8 PM. Buck's time has just gone, 8:05. He's about to open his mouth to defend his embarrassingly clingy behavior and, albeit exceptionally close, friendship with Eddie when the door opens.

Buck—hoping it's a waiter there to take their order to give him something to do other than dig himself deeper into this hole—glances over his shoulder. But instead he finds himself frozen when one Edmundo Diaz strolls through the door, looking mostly freshly shaven, hair messy in that too-perfect way with the fucking Superman curl Buck occasionally obsessively thinks about. He's wearing an expensive-looking, form-fitting suit with some sort of pattern; it hugs his biceps and forearms in all the right ways. Don't even get Buck started on the damn slacks. To top it all off, he's regrown that stupid fucking mustache that Buck finds ridiculously hot.

"Nice of you to join us, fashionably late, of course," Karen teases. Eddie in turn sends her a beaming smile, happily accepting a hug in greeting from her when she stands up to catch him on his way around the table. There are more smiles and hugs exchanged, but Buck feels perfectly frozen to his chair. He wonders if Eddie had overheard any of the conversation or been privy to Buck's humiliation from the moment before. He wonders if that conversation would have embarrassed Eddie too, turning him pink from ear to ear.

"Eddie?" Buck finally manages to say, his voice is both hopeful and strange, like Eddie might be a mirage. Eddie's fingertips brush against his right shoulder, all the way to his left, and Buck has to force himself not to shiver. He knows he's being embarrassing right now and that he hasn't taken his eyes off of Eddie since he's entered the room. The Battalion Chief is squinting at Buck like she doesn't quite believe him that the man who's just sat down beside him isn't his husband.

"Bobby told me you needed a plus one tonight." Eddie gives him a toothy grin. "Surprise!"

"Not that I'm going to complain, but what the hell are you doing here?" Buck is still staring. He can feel himself still staring. Examining each inch of Eddie's face like its the first time. God, if he's not careful, Eddie is going to see the truth written all over Buck's face—maybe he already has. Buck needs to get himself under control.

"He came to be your date, Buck. He literally just told you that," Ravi snarks, wincing when Anmol elbows him; it doesn't wipe the smirk off his mouth though.

"Long story," Eddie claims, still smiling as he takes his seat beside Buck. And just like that, the Eddie-sized hole in his chest is gone. Conversation around them picks back up, and Eddie flips open the menu, ignoring the heat of Buck's curious gaze. "Wanna split two meals, like usual?"

"Is that allowed at places like this?" Chimney inquires nosily from across the table.

Buck and Eddie both ignore him, and Eddie finally lifts his gaze to meet Buck's. "Eddie," Buck murmurs meaningfully.

"So Chris kind of told me that he wants to move back home." Eddie says finally.

"Home, home. Like, LA home?" Buck clarifies, hope painting each word.

"Home, home," Eddie agrees softly, reaching over and squeezing Buck's forearm. "I'll give you the full rundown later."

"Wait, so you're back? Back, back?"

"Yes, Buck," Eddie affirms with a tender smile. "I'm 'back, back.'" Buck is pretty sure his stomach does a fucking cartwheel. He's also pretty sure that his feelings are scribbled all over his face right now, he barely even cares.

Buck wants to hug Eddie as casually as their friends have, only he knows it won't be casual if he tries. It'll last a few seconds or minutes too long to be casual, and Buck will spend a few seconds too long inhaling his scent and noticing whether he was wearing his nice cologne or if Buck could smell leftover sweat and Texas heat on him. Buck swallows the ridiculous urge to kiss him stupid, right here, consequences be damned.

In the end, Buck doesn't do either of those things, but he does order the salmon and steak, while Eddie orders scallops and shrimp and some sort of pasta. The others shake their heads fondly or with slight disgust as they take turns eating off each other's plates.

"I'm sorry, I don't care how much I love someone—I'm not eating fucking pasta after them," Hen is saying. "And that's from someone who has kids."

"Babe, you wouldn't eat pasta after me?" Karen asks, her voice full of joyful laughter. Buck decides that their behavior isn't convincing the Chief, Assistant Chief, or Battalion Chief in regard to their relationship status because he catches all three of them side-eyeing both him and Eddie.

At some point after dinner, a round of cocktails is brought out, and they disperse around the room away from the table to talk. While Eddie's distracted by Karen and Hen, Buck pulls his sister to the side.

"You knew he was coming, didn't you!" That's why you told me to 'learn to be alone,' because you didn't want me finding someone to drag along as my plus one!"

Maddie grins at him, "Guilty. We wanted it to be a surprise. If I told you outright not to bring anyone, you absolutely would have out of spite. And if you didn't, you still would have been extremely suspicious. Besides, after that Nicolas guy, it felt like sound advice anyway."

Buck huffed, "Well, I guess I'm not going to complain. About the surprise, I mean. Well, I just mean that—well, it's nice to see him, y-you know?"

"Yeah, you better not complain. We were working out the details so he could make it here in time for weeks."

"Weeks?" Buck hisses in disbelief, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the others weren't overhearing their conversation. "And we?"

"Yeah, Eddie, Bobby, and I." Maddie explains.

"So did everyone know but me?"

"Basically. I even told Chim before we got here because I knew he wouldn't have time to spill the beans with all of us watching him like a hawk." She clears her throat, alerting Buck to Eddie's presence almost a full 30 seconds before his hand grazes over Buck's shoulder blades.

"Eddie," Maddie says with a smile. "I'm glad you made it in time."

Buck watches the two of them hug, feeling warm and fuzzy about it, but also a little, albeit jokingly, betrayed that they'd joined forces against him.

"I can't believe you both kept this from me," Buck gripes, sticking out his bottom lip to pout.

"We weren't actually sure if it was going to work out until nearly the last minute, so none of us wanted you to get your hopes up," Eddie explains, taking a long sip from his cocktail.

"Well, I'm really glad you're here," Buck tells him softly, staring at Eddie's fancy, shiny shoes instead of his face.

Maddie takes that as her cue to exit the conversation, drifting off to find Chimney while Eddie gives Buck a meaningful smile. "I missed you too." His voice is soft and affectionate, referencing Buck's text from earlier.

"You grew your mustache back," Buck observes. He's been dying to say something since the moment Eddie walked in the room. Eddie doesn't say much other than hum in agreement. There's a couple moments of silence where Eddie is watching him closely, what he'd searching for Buck doesn't know but it's making him itchy and self-conscious again and he has to say something to break the silence. It's that or spiral down the thread of NSFW thoughts he's having about Eddie's mustache, the last thing he wants is to accidentally verbalize one of those aloud.

"The Chief thought you were my husband." Buck doesn't know why he blurts it out. Maybe he's simply a masochist, or maybe he has an undiscovered humiliation kink—surely it's the only explanation. Instead of shocked or—well, Buck isn't sure what expression he was expecting Eddie to make, but he doesn't expect a carefree belly-deep laugh. Buck is practically drunk on the noise. He's pretty sure he sways toward Eddie, like a sunflower reaching toward the sun. "He asked why I didn't invite you."

"And why didn't you?"

Buck is taken aback by the question. He looks at Eddie a bit helplessly, and a slightly wounded noise escapes him involuntarily when he opens his mouth to speak, "You were in El Paso, and I—I was here."

Eddie tilts his head, studying Buck's face. "You know I'll always come, any time you need me. You know that, right?" His eyebrows go up in query.

"I mean, I know that, Eddie; of course I do. But this was—this was stupid. It wasn't anything. Just some dinner thanking us for what we already do every single day and risking our lives. It was nothing more than another close call. And I wasn't even—." Buck's voice cracks, and he clears his throat in favor of finishing the sentence. He wasn't sure where he was going with it anyway.

"Buck," Eddie murmurs so very gently, almost sorrowfully. His best friend holds his gaze a few extra seconds, and Buck has to force himself to look away. He focuses instead on Bobby calling out his name to draw him into a conversation with Chimney and Julie. It's far easier than acknowledging that fluttering in his chest, or the pit of dread, or that nonsensical urge to kiss him.

"Buck," Eddie begins to say, but Buck has already fled.

An hour later the dinner is finally coming to a close; the 118 and the LAFD higher-ups stream out of the building, all heading their separate directions. He says farewell to Anmol, who gives him a smacking kiss on the cheek. He pauses to wish Bobby and Athena a nice night, then exchanges hugs with Karen and Hen. Maddie has the audacity to wink at him and blow him an obnoxious kiss, gaze darting meaningfully over to Eddie then back to Buck. His cheeks are hot all over again, and her husband's smile manages to be somehow more obnoxious than Maddie's, so Buck flips both Maddie and Chimney off for good measure.

He laughs sheepishly when he catches Eddie observing him with a slight upturn of the mouth. Despite his embarrassment, with Eddie at his side, surrounded by the departing 118, it's the first time Buck thinks he's felt steady since Eddie left LA.

"Hey." Buck looks up when he hears Lucy speak; only her words aren't directed at him but at Eddie. "Don't know if I've had the chance to tell you how incredibly gay you look with that Freddie Mercury stash on your upper lip, but I thought I'd stop by and let you know. See you around, you Fruit Loops. With that, she drunkenly gives Eddie finger guns and runs off with a giggling Julie toward their Lyft.

Eddie snorts out his nose in amusement, glancing at Buck and shaking his head. He gestures toward the Jeep with his chin, and Buck is quick to follow his lead.

"I still can't believe you're here," Buck admits. "So when…"

"I'm still working out the exact details," Eddie elaborates. "But I'm starting the process of paperwork and job related stuff with Bobby tomorrow morning so I can be reinstated as soon as possible. Next week I'll be flying back to Texas to finish last-minute details. We're mostly packed up now, Adriana is staying with Chris and Abuela in the meantime.

"Adriana?" Buck says in surprise, and he raises his eyebrows curiously.

"Well, you see, as it turns out, Chris is a bit…burnt out on spending time with his grandparents." Eddie's evasive comment earns a snort from Buck, and their shoulders bump together, walking a little closer together than necessary, as usual.

"Guess I should probably start looking for somewhere new to stay then," Buck half jokes, a pit of anxiety planting itself in his stomach.

Eddie squeezes his shoulder. "Come on, you're in no rush. You know that."

"Still, neither of our backs will thank us after sleeping on my couch. It's somehow worse than yours," Buck points out, trying not to let the warmth of Eddie's fingers through the back of his shirt distract him. It's difficult, though, not to think about each point of contact. He's felt hyperaware of everything to do with Eddie since the Big Realization.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Come on, you've got a king-sized bed, Buck. I doubt sharing will be an issue."

"Right," Buck agrees. Embarrassingly, his voice cracks, but Eddie seems unfazed by his borderline irrational behavior. Eddie's hand drifts lower, resting warm against Buck's lower back. A nervous fucking giggle escapes past Buck's lips, unable to muffle it in time. He dearly hopes it passed for a hiccup.

When they reach the Jeep, Buck does everything in his willpower not to simply flee from Eddie's side. If he started acting any more erratic, Eddie would catch on that something was up. Something being his huge impossible feelings for Eddie. That would be one humiliation too many tonight.

Buck's hands are trembling when he finally climbs into the driver's seat of the Jeep and twists the key in the ignition. He squeezes his hand open and shut a few times, like he'd regain control of his limbs. There's something about Eddie that feels different than the last time Buck had seen him face-to-face. It's throwing him off, making him jittery. And it wasn't just that damn mustache, which Buck is already tied into knots over. He needs to focus. He can't put his finger on what has changed; he just knows something has. If Buck wasn't certain he was imagining things, he'd think the energy between the two of them was practically charged.

From time to time, on the drive toward home—their home—he glances suspiciously at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. In the meantime, Eddie peppers him with various questions about work and about Maddie and Jee, not to mention Bobby and Chim's recovery. He explains that Karen has been keeping Eddie in the loop on Hen.

"And how have you been through all of this?" Eddie asks.

"Me?" Buck asks because the question didn't make much sense. Buck was the least affected by everything that had happened. He'd been on the outside of it all looking in, watching the chaos from afar, full of terror.

"Yes, you. I've heard about every other person under the sun, but nothing about you. I still can't even imagine what those hours must have been like. And you've always taken the responsibility of the world on your shoulders.

"Like you're any better," Buck scoffs.

Eddie doesn't disagree with him and simply sends him a searching look in the low light of the car. "Buck," Eddie prods again so gently it makes Buck squirm with discomfort, unsure how to receive the tenderness. "We've never talked about it. I've never heard your side of things."

Buck crumbles. "I really thought I was going to lose them, Eds. I guess it reminded me just how fragile all of this is."

"This?" Eddie asks.

"Us…them, this family we've built for ourselves. Bobby, Hen, and Chimney—they were the closest thing I ever had to a family before Maddie came back into my life. Until you..." It hangs in the air so vulnerable, he half expects Eddie to cringe from it, but instead he continues to simply examine Buck solemnly. I missed you every single day you were in El Paso, but I would be lying if I wasn't relieved you were a thousand miles from home when everything in the lab went down. I was thankful you weren't there to play the martyr."

"Oh, and you're one to talk," Eddie replies knowingly.

"I've been doing better," Buck insists. "Better now that you're back," Buck doesn't say. Eddie's presence alone made him feel safer, more grounded—whole, even.

"You have," Eddie concurs. Buck twists the key in the ignition, turning the vehicle off once they're stopped in the driveway. Eddie reaches out and stops his hand before he pulls the key out from its slot. There's something mischievous alight in his eyes. "Nightcap?" Buck is suspicious again.

It's also the exact last thing Buck is expecting Eddie to say, so he almost laughs. "Well, we could definitely see what I've got," Buck muses.

"I mean, it's still early. We change our shoes, order an Uber, and get some drinks. It's been a while since we've been out, just the two of us."

Buck is guarded for another moment, but he's so happy his best friend is back that he can't help but ease Eddie instead of asking why he's acting so strange tonight. "What—you never want to go out!" He kicks himself before he says his next words, even as his most smug and teasing smirk graces the corners of his mouth, his tone perfectly cheeky. "Eddie, are you asking me out?"

"And if I were?" Eddie asks, heated gaze fixed on Buck.

"Huh?" Buck grunts more than asks, extremely eloquently, blinking at Eddie stupidly with his big dumb empty blue eyes.

"And if I were asking you out, what then? Eddie challenges.

Buck's breath catches, and suddenly he needs to be out of this confined space, so he quickly climbs out of the Jeep, cheeks hot. "Eds, come on," Buck mumbles. His stomach is aching, and this really isn't something he thinks he can actually joke about, so he hurries towards the front doors and uses unlocking the house as an excuse to look anywhere but at Eddie.

"Where are you going?" Eddie asks.

"To get my shoes," Buck replies because there's nothing else to say.

"So we are going then, for drinks?"

"Mhm," Buck manages through panic that he might either cry right now or spill his feelings at Eddie's feet, and then there would be no going back.

They're both quiet as they slip into shoes they won't mind getting scuffed. Buck follows Eddie back to the Jeep to wait on their Uber, which Eddie apparently ordered before they even parked, correctly presuming Buck's answer.

"You never answered," Eddie says, bumping his shoulder, breaking the silence.

"Answered?"

"My question? What if we went out tonight and it was a date? If it was more than what we've been dancing around for months—years, even."

"E-Eddie," Buck stutters, dumbfounded. "Am I-am I missing something here?"

"Yeah, pretty much every single obvious sign tonight I've been sending your way," Eddie quips with a playful but almost fragile smile. "Here I thought I was being pretty blatant. The others caught on fast."

Buck double-takes, then triple-takes, brain processing too slowly for any of this to make any actual sense. "You—me?" Buck glances over his shoulder, swearing Eddie must be talking to someone behind him. He's not sure if he should be pinching himself to wake up from this dream or potential nightmare, depending on whether a camera crew was about to come stumbling out of the bushes when Buck least expected it. "Eddie?" Buck asks weakly, searching his face for confirmation.

Eddie sighs and looks away, carding a hand through his hair and mussing it. "Look, Buck, what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to be your platonic soulmate or whatever the hell it was you said back there, man."

"I actually said that out loud?" Buck squeaks. He begins to worry just how many of his inside-his-brain thoughts ended up on the outside tonight during his fumbling.

"You did, and it sounded every bit as pathetic as you probably thought it did coming out of your mouth. But what I'm trying to say, Buck, is that I want more. I want more with you. Like, you get what I mean now, right? I haven't completely misread this thing between us tonight, right?" Buck sees a fraction of that confidence that existed in the lines of his shoulders all night begin to fade a fraction, and Buck certainly can't have that.

Buck is still speechless as he studies Eddie's face. "When?" He's still pretty sure he's suffering from clinical-grade whiplash, or maybe a TBI.

"Well, I guess you could say I figured out a few things about wanting and joy, and somehow they all boiled down to family. My son, of course, and as it turns out—you. And the 118, I guess. I think deep down I probably always knew."

"And this is real?" Buck asks in disbelief.

Eddie throws his head back and laughs. "Were you not there like 25 minutes ago when Lucy told me I look gay and called us Fruit Loops? Or was that a fever dream?"

Buck isn't sure why that's what breaks the dam, but one minute he's staring at Eddie, relearning the planes of his face for the 45th time that evening, and the next he's surging forward, almost like there is something else driving his limbs. He all but tackles Eddie into the side of the Jeep. The way their lips press together is bruising, and Buck still thinks that nothing will ever be enough—he's never felt so hungry in his entire life. Eddie's mouth is just as insistent against his own, and Eddie laughs when they finally break apart. "I'm assuming that's a yes, then?"

"Huh?" Buck says eloquently for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

"To the date, you're saying yes?"

"Only if we can keep doing this," Buck knows it comes out a bit whiny; Eddie doesn't seem to care, and if he's not mistaken, Eddie seems to like it when he's a little bratty anyway.

"We've got plenty of time later," Eddie hums.

"I already took you to dinner," Buck jokes, taking a second step back just to fight the temptation.

"And I'm trying to tell you that we shouldn't waste just how good you look tonight."

"Just tonight?" Buck teases, finally regaining his footing and composure.

Eddie tilts his head, and his eyes are as hungry as Buck feels. "That suit looks fucking sinful on you, Buckley. You know that, right? I need you to know that." Eddie's gaze is so intense, Buck is pretty sure it's knocked the damn air out of his lungs.

Buck wets his lips, skin hot and itchy for the millionth time that night. Waiting for their ride to arrive takes what feels like a lifetime. Eddie keeps bumping their shoulders together like it isn't driving Buck absolutely insane. The bare touches are like the worst form of edging.

"Why are we doing this again? You don't even like going to the club," Buck reminds Eddie, itching to get his hands under the hem of his shirt, down the front of his pants.

"No, but I like you," Eddie says like that explained everything. "You like loud music and 'dancing' in clubs. You've been begging me and everyone around you to go for months."

And yeah, that—Eddie knowing and remembering the little things—that's doing it for Buck. Part of him wants to shrug between his shoulders, because without Eddie around he sort of forgot what it was like for someone else to commit every word you said and every move you made to memory. Eddie remembered it and held onto it, like Buck often did for the people around him, since Buck has never managed to be casual about anything a day in his entire life.

Half of Buck feels so soppy and affectionate over it, and the other half wants to jump Eddie's bones even more than he did 2 minutes ago, and that was certainly saying something. They both turn when the car pulls up along the driveway. Eddie raises his eyebrows and smiles. "Besides, is it a crime to want to show my boyfriend off to the world?"

Buck's entire body hums with the word. Who needed drugs when Eddie Diaz could call them their boyfriend? "God, you're so jealous and possessive," Buck jokes.

Eddie gives him a heated once-over. "Yeah, and you like it." Buck knees suddenly feel like jello. Yeah, Eddie has him there. Buck is eating up every second of it. "Now come on."

Buck stumbles over himself climbing in the backseat, feeling every bit like the obedient golden retriever the team teased him he was. Well, at least when it came to Eddie and wanting. And Eddie—Eddie wants him, apparently. Has wanted him, which still feels nonsensical in Buck's head. He pinches the inside of his wrist just to make sure this wasn't some sort of dream.

Eddie stills his hand when he attempts to pinch his wrist again, a furrow of concern between his eyebrows. "What's up?"

Buck drops his hands loose in his lap. "Just making sure this is real," Buck confesses to the floorboard, avoiding eye contact with their Uber driver, who couldn't care less what was happening in his backseat.

"It's real," Eddie says, staring at him until Buck is forced to make eye contact. He jumps slightly when Eddie sets his hand on the side of Buck's thigh. Buck swallows a choked giggle of nervousness, because yeah, they'd been kissing, but this—this was almost too real. Eddie seems extremely smug with just how keyed up Buck is. The rest of the drive there, Eddie's hand slowly drifts further and further up his thigh, rubbing little circles into the inner part of his leg with his thumb.

As soon as they make it to the club, Buck almost bodily drags Eddie out of the backseat, needing to get his hands on him. The stumble through the front door of the club after flashing their IDs and being waved in. Buck needs a drink and now. The next 30 minutes happen in a blur and somehow end with an invitation to join the bachelorette party next to them in a couple rounds of shots. Before long they're a few cocktails in and everything, but the dance floor has disappeared around them.

The thing is that sometimes Buck forgets that Eddie used to be a dancer; his body moves smoothly and fluidly, and frankly every time their skin brushed, it was driving Buck fucking crazy. He can only imagine Eddie doing the stupid but slightly provocative dance moves from the early 2000s. Buck would invent a time machine to do that, if he could. Instead, he contents himself with keeping his body no less than six inches from Eddie at any given moment.

At some point someone bumps Eddie, splashing the remnants of Eddie's liquor, it trails down his neck and collarbone. Buck makes it his mission to follow each drop with his mouth and tongue. Eddie's skin is sweaty and sweet. He slips his fingers under the collar of Eddie's shirt and pulls him closer with his free arm. Buck is slightly surprised at how pliant Eddie becomes under his hands. His best friend's cheeks are flushed pink with arousal and the general heat from the club and moving around.

There are a lot of things Buck wishes he could be doing right about now, and at least two of them involve sliding to his knees and—well, Buck needs to stop that dangerous train of thought before it gets both of them into very hazardous territory. Instead, Buck allows himself to become entranced with the way light flashes off of Eddie's sweaty cheekbones, the muss of his hair, and the damned superman curl that drives Buck bonkers. And his mustache. His fucking mustache. He kisses Eddie again; it's long and deep, and he's out of breath when they pull apart.

"Can I tell you something serious?" Buck asks, his voice slurring—he blames the copious amount of vodka and not the pure ecstasy and blue he's feeling from touching Eddie—from kissing him.

"Mmm?" Eddie murmurs curiously.

"I missed this stupid fucking mustache." Buck runs his thumb over it. "It's so fucking hot it makes me insane."

Eddie laughs in delight, head falling against Buck's chest, letting Buck take his weight. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm being so serious right now. You don't understand."

"You could barely look at me!" Eddie reminds him, as if Buck could forget.

"Yeah, because every time I did I—" Buck wets his lips, cutting himself off.

Eddie looks up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes full of heat and desire. The smugness and confidence from earlier were back and in full force. Buck feels like he's had the wind knocked out of him. "Every time you did?" Eddie murmurs knowingly.

"We—we need air," Buck says quickly, shaking his head.

"Do we?" Eddie asks silkily, raising his eyebrows. Buck doesn't give him any more time. He drags Eddie along with him, and they stumble out the back door together, their mouths like magnets. Buck can't get enough, drunk off his mouth, the scrape of Eddie's teeth, and the burn of fresh stubble against his cheeks.

Eddie's hands are roaming Buck's body, and Buck—he needs… Well, he needs a wall. So when he stumbles backward into one, he twists them around, grabbing Eddie's thighs and hoisting him up against the bricks, earning an "oof" of surprise from Eddie and a grunt from Buck.

"You haven't been training to bench press me?" Eddie teases, wrapping his legs around Buck's waist.

"No, it was all those slices of fucking chocolate cake you wouldn't stop eating for dessert. Trust me, I've been training to bench press your weight since we met. And the vodka I drank certainly isn't helping."

Eddie laughs, head flopping backward against the wall, but his mouth is soon redirected when Buck nips lightly at his neck. Their teeth click together from the sheer urgency and drunkenness of the endeavor, and Buck's hips jerk forward almost involuntarily.

"Take me home," Eddie groans against Buck's mouth, shivering when Buck latches on to the side of his neck, sucking soft bruises into the sensitive skin, which makes Eddie squirm. Buck scrapes his teeth over Eddie's collarbone, earning a tiny needy noise from him. "Buck."

"Home," Buck agrees, fumbling for his phone.

An Uber. A house. A family. A promise of a future together.

Eddie and Buck's very own happily ever after.