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When it finally happened, no one had been surprised.
Buck and Eddie had been a constant in each other’s personal lives for almost six years, even when one or both of them got into another relationship (God forbid we think about the mess that was Eddie Diaz’s jealous streak when Buck was dating Taylor Kelly). Buck had long since fallen into the role of co-parent, and spent more than 90% of his time at the Diaz household — and if he wasn’t, he was simply dropping in at the loft to grab something they’d run out of at Eddie’s. They took turns dropping off and picking Christopher up from school, Buck joined Eddie at parent-teacher evenings, they came to and left work together, joined at the hip. The already wavering line between casual, platonic brushes and lingering, yearning touches became increasingly blurred the more time passed since they’d dumped their respective girlfriends. By the time Eddie’s six year anniversary at the 118 was coming up, it was a matter of when, rather than if.
Though, maybe it always was.
So, yeah— when Buck and Eddie slipped out of a gathering at the Grant-Nash household just a little bit earlier than usual, and stumbled into their shift the next morning five minutes late, wearing matching expressions of giddiness and pure child-like joy — no one had been surprised. Excited? Yes. Curious about how it happened? 100%. But everyone had seen it coming. Including Bobby, who had just handed already half-filled out HR forms to a confused Buck and a slightly smug Eddie, before telling them to have them signed and on his desk by the end of the week.
That was over a year ago, now. And Buck? He hadn’t believed for the longest time that it was even possible to be this happy. That he’d get to have that life, that family, that he’d always dreamed of.
He gets to wake up every morning to warm, familiar arms and sun-kissed skin. Messy hair and that slight stubble that he can still feel the sting on his inner thigh from the friction. Deep, brown eyes blearily blinking up at him from their place on his chest, a soft grin reserved just for him — always. Lazy, half-asleep kisses that are all teeth and morning breath, but still captivating and filled with so, so much love that it makes him ache with want.
But he knows now that he can want, because he gets to have it either way. The mornings that start with tired cuddles under the covers and end in quiet, breathless morning sex — so as to not wake Christopher. Then finally crawling out of bed to clean up and make breakfast with a steaming hot coffee, greet Chris with a quick hug (maybe even a kiss on the head if they’re lucky, teenagers are tricky when it comes to affection), and send him off to school.
If neither of them have a shift that day, they usually spend it in bed, or on the couch. Finding every excuse to touch and to kiss and to declare their undying love — for no other reason than they simply can.
Those days are the best, in Buck’s opinion. And not just because he gets toe-curling blowjobs in the kitchen or because Eddie’s increasingly desperate ‘Ah, fuck, just like that’ s make him dizzy with devotion. No, they’re his favourite because he gets to spend his entire day reminding himself that, yes, this is his life now. A life that’s euphoric and endlessly fulfilling.
And today, it just so happens, to be one of those days.
Christopher stayed the night at a friend’s house, and won’t be dropped back off at home until the evening, so they have the house to themselves. Buck is woken up by Eddie’s lips already on his neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin while his fingers trail listlessly over the skin exposed at his hip. Eddie knows exactly what to do to make Buck whimper and moan, but he doesn’t let him get there. Not yet, at least.
He fights back a shudder at the sensations and uses the element of surprise to catch his boyfriend off-guard and flips them both over, his arms caging around Eddie on the mattress beneath him. “Well, good morning to you, too.” He mumbles, still hazy with sleep but a devilish concoction of lust and love pooling in the pit of his stomach.
Eddie just stares up at him through half-lidded eyes, pupils already dark and blown wide with what Buck knows are very sinful thoughts — if the weight pressing against his thigh is anything to go by. Buck is helpless to do anything but kiss him.
They stay like that for a few hours, kissing and licking and fucking until Buck feels like he’s drunk without a single drop of alcohol in his system. He’s intoxicated, knows Eddie feels it too, as he drinks in the post-cotial slur of his words and the ache in his thighs with a warmth in his chest.
It’s probably about one in the afternoon when there’s a knock on the front door, which pulls them both from their sex-drunk stupors— Buck more so than Eddie, who’s still very much riding (no pun intended) the high of the past couple hours. Eddie half-groans, already dragging his hand to weakly clutch Buck in an attempt to get him to stay tangled in bed with him. It’s adorable and very tempting, especially since it’s their day off, and he knows they’re not expecting anybody for at least five hours. But, then again, it could be Maddie dropping by wanting a break from parenting, or Ravi begging him for even more dating advice and — while, yes, he’d much rather lay in bed with his boyfriend until they have to shower and be responsible adults — he can’t just ignore them.
Buck starts pulling away from their shared bed, still sticky in all the right places, and chuckles at how Eddie whines at the loss of contact. “I’ll be right back, if it’s anything important I’ll let you know.”
Eddie does nothing but mumble and grumble about his boyfriend being a traitor, and how he deserves to get his back blown out and a croissant from that new cafe near the station in compensation. Buck smiles, open and so damn lovestruck, and leans down to place a kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head. “Sure, love. Anything you want.”
He tosses on the closest items of clothing he can find — Eddie’s white henley, that is definitely too small on him, and the grey sweats he wore last night before they tumbled into bed with excitement at a childless house — and pads his way down the hall towards the living room, sparing a glance at himself in the mirror.
His hair is a mess, sticking out in every direction, curls unruly and probably greasy. His already pink lips are kissed bright red, swollen and bitten and just looking at them has him reeling with the want of stripping and slipping back under the covers again. From underneath the shirt, multiple hickeys and bite marks can be seen peeking from the collar, and there are bruises on his waist and hips made visible by the low-waisted sweats he chose. He’s pretty sure his wrists are red with hand-prints, too, but it’s maybe too early to tell.
Buck looks so obviously like he just had amazing morning sex with the love of his life, and the sight makes him grin so hard he might just look a little insane. Neither he nor Eddie have ever had an issue with answering the door while in this state, because everyone that might show up at their home unprompted knows about them. Sure, they make sure to have the decency to cover up all the ‘gory details’, as Chim says, but everybody knows they have a rich sex life anyways. So, really, pretending like Buck wasn’t just all the way to the hilt inside Eddie and relishing in the feeling of teeth dragging against his skin, is pointless.
So he shrugs, prepares for the usual hazing that comes with being seen like this, and presses his key into the door with practised ease. It unlocks with a click and Buck briefly thinks “if this is Bobby then I’m going to quit” before pulling the door open. For a moment, he’s relieved that it’s not anyone he knows, because then that means no teasing (at least no more than usual), before the sickening realisation hits him that he does know the people stood in front of him—
And he almost slams the door in their faces. He has to physically place his leg in between the door and the doorframe to prevent that happening. “Mr and Mrs Diaz!” He exclaims, shocked and frankly terrified, hoping that his voice is loud enough for Eddie to hear him from the bedroom.
The aforementioned couple, Eddie’s parents for christ-sake, just stare at him in what appears to be a mean mixture of confusion, distaste and something else that he can’t quite place. He raises an arm to scratch the back of his neck and— yep, the handprint on his wrist is clear as day now. Just perfect.
Buck doesn’t even know what to do in this situation. But then again, who would?
Eddie rarely speaks to his parents anymore, a call here and there is about as far as he’ll go. He always says it’s for Christopher’s sake, but Buck can tell that part of it is for Eddie, too. It’s obvious, in the way that his boyfriend tends to flinch at any mention of his parents, and will bite out something along the lines of ‘they don’t need to be a part of my life, we have everyone we need.’
‘We have Buck, and the rest of the 118’ goes unsaid, but Buck hears it every time.
So, yeah, this situation is not one he’s really anticipating to encounter on a tranquil Thursday afternoon.
“And, who are you again?” Helena says carefully, eyeing him like she thinks if she looks hard enough that all of his darkest secrets will come tumbling out into plain view for her to examine and gauge the worth of. “And why are you in our son’s house looking like—" she just gestures vaguely to all of him. Buck does not falter.
Instead, he steps aside with as kind a smile he can muster, and nods his head down the hallway in an invitation. “I’m Evan Buckley, Eddie’s partner— at work.” He decides to tack on the ‘at work’ because he knows Eddie isn’t out to his parents and, even if they’re probably making a lot of assumptions about him and his relationship to their son, it’s not his place to tell them the truth. “But, please, call me Buck.”
Recognition seems to fall over both Diaz's faces, because then they’re stepping inside with semi-polite smiles as well.
“Ah, you’re Buck.” Ramon says when Buck closes the front door and walks ahead of them into the living room. “Christopher talks a lot about you.”
“I think we also met at Eddie’s graduation ceremony, did we not?” Helena asks, attempting to make conversation to ease the tension in the air. It doesn’t work.
Buck smiles shyly at Ramon’s words and nods in confirmation at Helena. “Sorry that the house is a bit of a mess. Christopher is out and it’s our day off, so chores are not high on the to-do list at the moment.” He uses his hands to motion to the lego scattered around by the couch, the incomplete puzzle — the one thousand piece nebula, since Chris has been on a space kick recently — and the unfolded clothes and towels laid out on the coffee table.
Buck’s never been worried about the fact Eddie hasn’t told his parents about them. If he didn’t think their opinion wasn’t important enough, then neither did Buck. Though, now. After a year and a half of dating— and even longer of hopelessly dancing around their feelings before finally giving in and kissing each other senseless— Buck’s kind of wishing they’d just bitten the bullet and made a facebook announcement, or something. It’d at least have saved him this very awkward conversation where he feels like he’s being heavily assessed, and judged, by two people he’s met a whole one time in his life.
“You say ‘our day off,’” Helena responds, looking just a smidge uncomfortable, which is way more than he can say for himself. Buck is so nervous he feels like he might throw up, but that would be a terrible second impression. Why does he feel like he has to impress? “Do you schedule your days off together?” Buck can hear the question behind the question; ‘do you spend all of your free time together?’
Buck tries not to fidget with his fingers when he answers her. “Sometimes, but we work mostly the same shifts anyway so our time off is usually the same regardless. We have another shift tomorrow.” He starts stepping towards the kitchen, trying to find something to do while he thinks up a reason to get them to leave. “Would either of you like a coffee? Or anything else?”
Both of them shake their heads. Okay, so. Not good. They’re not here for a casual chat, at least not anymore.
“Where is Eddie?” Ramon asks, looking a little impatient.
“He’s asleep,” Buck says simply. Ramon looks a little bit like he was just told his son was doing something insane.
“Why on earth would he be asleep?” The man questions, gaze hardened, voice in a tone Buck knows Eddie would never use when talking about his own son. He can’t help but wonder how someone as wonderful as his boyfriend came from Ramon Diaz. “It’s past lunch time!”
Fighting back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh, in peak Eddie fashion, Buck just shrugs as if he wasn’t also in bed, with Eddie, less than 20 minutes ago. “Like I said, it’s our day off and Christopher is with a friend, so the house is nice and quiet. Sleep is a gift when you’re a parent, I think you both know that.”
Helena narrows her eyes, and Buck already knows what the next slew of questions are going to be about. He takes a seat on the couch, appearing as casual as possible, and continues looking at her when she says, “What friend? Where is he staying, and who is looking after him? How well does Eddie know and trust these people?”
Buck takes the bombardment in stride. This he could do. Taking care of Christopher is like second-hand nature to him by now, and he’s memorised anything and everything he needs to in regards to the kid’s safety. “He’s with a friend from school, Andy, and a few others. He stayed at Andy’s house last night and the sleepover was supervised by 2 adults, one of which was Andy’s mother. Eddie joined the PTA last year, so he’s good friends with pretty much any adult Christopher interacts with outside of the 118 and family.” He watches as they both nod their heads at the information, but can tell they’re still not satisfied. “However, Christopher is turning 15 in a few months, and he doesn’t need to be coddled anymore. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and knowing when he needs to ask for help.”
Both Helena and Ramon look scandalised at the fact that Buck just called them out on the way they treat Christopher; like he’s unable to be independent; when both he and Eddie have seen so clearly the opposite.
“And who are you to be dictating what Christopher can and can’t do?” Ramon practically growls, anger tipping into his words. Eddie was not exaggerating when he said his parents hate being in the wrong. “You’re not his father, or his uncle, or any form of family. I think we’re more qualified here.”
And— Buck had expected that to hurt. Had expected his suspicions that Eddie’s parents wouldn’t like him, and wouldn’t think him fit enough to parent Christopher, would feel a lot like being punched in the throat. But it doesn’t. Buck knows that no matter what is said here, Eddie loves him, Christopher loves him, and that, at the end of the day, he has and always will have a very permanent place in both of their lives. It took a lot of convincing from both of them, and from Dr Copeland, to get here. But he’s grateful, nonetheless. So maybe it’s that knowledge, curling in his chest and closing around his heart like a protective shield, that makes Buck just— laugh.
It’s not loud, or mean, or even incredulous. He laughs because it’s genuinely hilarious, really, that Eddie’s parents think they can just show up in LA uninvited, waltz into Eddie— and Buck’s —home, and give him orders on how to raise his son?
Helena opens and closes her mouth over and over, gaping like a goldfish, as if trying to figure out how to respond to his laughter. To the fact that he isn’t threatened, and clearly doesn’t take either of them seriously. Ramon looks like he’s ready to punch something, or someone; ‘definitely me,’ Buck’s mind helpfully supplies.
“How dare you?!” Ramon rages, hands clenching at his sides. “What? You think that just because our grandson looks up to you and thinks you’re a hero that—” he pauses, shaking with anger. Buck tries not to laugh again. “—it makes you his family? You have no say in anything that goes on with Christopher, even if you and Eddie are— what? Co-workers? Good friends?”
Buck wants to correct him, really, he does. But Eddie is fucked out in another room, and probably dreaming about that croissant he’s owed, so he’s not going to make a move yet. Not unless he has a real reason to.
Ramon pushes on. “Why are you even in his house anyway?! You open the door for guests, dressed in lazy attire and looking like you just walked out of a whorehouse—” Buck almost flinches at that, his Buck 1.0 days coming to mind, “—and Eddie thinks that’s okay? To let someone like you around his son?!”
In another life, one where Buck isn’t so lucky, where he hasn’t spent years in therapy while surrounded by family, where he still falls in love with Eddie but maybe things just don’t work out; those words tear through him like knives, leaving him bleeding out and wracked with guilt for overstepping and being exhausting all over again. But this is his life. And Buck knows his place next to Eddie, next to Christopher. Knows it so deeply that he doesn’t think anything short of both of them saying the words ‘we don’t want you here’ could get him to leave, to step back.
So, again, Buck just smiles. And nods.
Helena looks like she’s just been slapped. “I— I can’t believe this!” She yells, eyes wide with shock. “How are you so unbothered? Why are you in Eddie’s house, like you live here?! Why do you know Christopher’s friends and their parents?! And why do you look like that? Smug, like you know something we don’t?!”
Buck carefully considers how he’s going to approach this. He doesn’t want to kick them out, but all the shouting is seriously giving him a headache and, frankly, he’d really like to just go back to bed and get his mouth on Eddie’s beautiful cock again. But he guesses that’ll have to wait.
He’s about to speak again when a familiar voice curls through the silence, startling the Diaz’s but easing the tension in Buck’s body so effortlessly that it honestly amazes him. There’s gotta be some kind of science behind it, he thinks.
“Because, Mom, he does know something you don’t.” Eddie says as he steps into the living room and immediately walks over and drops onto the couch, right next to his boyfriend. Buck automatically presses into his side, which has them both sighing with contentment. “It’s honestly quite obvious, given what’s in front of you, but I’ll give you a moment to think about it.”
Buck’s eyes drag over Eddie’s form, gaze lingering on all the things that tell the story of the day’s earlier events; the bruising on his collarbone, which is exposed by his— Buck’s —low-cut t-shirt; the white stain that’s visible in his stubble, the hand prints that are deliciously Buck-shaped on his thighs; his swollen lips accompanied by a smidge of dry blood, caused by Eddie biting down on an orgasm so hard he saw stars. God, he loves this man.
“Wh— what is that supposed to mean, Eddie? We don’t talk to you for months, don’t hear from you unless it’s to see Christopher, and suddenly it’s like— like you’re—”
“What? More confident? Not taking your bullshit like I did before?” Eddie interrupts her, voice unwavering and Buck really needs this to be over soon, or else he jumps his boyfriend in front of his parents. “Look, there is an answer to all of your questions. But I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you.”
Ramon’s breath hitches in his throat, like he’s realised the implication behind his son’s words. Buck watches Eddie’s eyes glint with a hint of mischief.
This side of Eddie is unfairly attractive.
“You’re together, aren’t you?” Ramon says, and Buck can hear the disgust in his voice already. It reminds him of kissing Mathew McEwan in the dim light of his childhood bedroom before his father threw open the door and threw him out in a fit of rage. He tries not to think about it. “This man is your…”
Since the poor old man can’t seem to get the words out, Buck finishes his sentence for him. “Boyfriend. For a year and 5 months, roughly.”
Helena’s face seems to be contorting in a lot of ways, but the last emotion she lands on is one of understanding. It confuses him.
“That… explains a lot, actually.” She lets out, seeming oddly relieved. Eddie and Buck exchange glances. “I assume that’s why he’s here, because he lives here. And why he knows exactly where and who Christopher is with, and why you both look— well—” She clears her throat, clearly not wanting to put emphasis on the underlying sexual undertones of the rest of that sentence.
Ramon’s head snaps around to look at his wife, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Why are you talking about this like it’s okay?!” He all but shouts again, eyes practically bulging out of his head. “Our son is with a man, and trusting someone perverse like—”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Eddie leers, right hand landing protectively on the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. Buck shivers at the touch, trying not to let his mind wander elsewhere.
“Excuse you?!”
“I said, don’t you fucking dare.” Eddie bites back, unintimidated. “There is nothing perverse about my relationship with Buck or, by proxy, Buck’s relationship with Christopher. I have put my life in this man’s hands almost every single day for the past seven years, and never once has he made me question that decision. He is the best partner I could’ve ever asked for, both as a lover and as a co-parent.” His eyes narrow at his father, as if daring him to deny it. He doesn’t. “There is nobody in this world I trust with my son more than Buck. He is Christopher’s second father in every sense of the word, and has done nothing but love him from the moment he entered his life. Buck saw me and Christopher, and the mess that was our life, and stepped right in with us — from day one. He is the love of my life whom I plan to marry someday and, when I do, I’ll ask him to adopt Christopher, because god knows that boy loves his Buck as much as I do. So, if you want to call him perverse, then you’re calling me perverse too. You’re calling the first real, whole love I’ve ever had the honour of experiencing perverse — and if that’s what you think, then you can get the fuck out of our home and never come back.”
When Eddie’s done speaking, Buck is shaking with the urge to turn to his left and kiss the daylights out of him. He’s heard most of this before; back when they’d first confessed to each other, in Buck’s Jeep outside Athena and Bobby’s house. Eddie had given him a whole speech that left him teary-eyed and chasing kisses even while full-blown crying, and that speech had included a decent amount of the same stuff said today. Except, this time, Eddie is declaring it to someone else. He’s picked up his love for Buck and thrown it onto a silver platter to show off to his parents, screaming it in their faces with his whole heart.
But the part about marrying him, about adopting Christopher? That’s new. And Buck is trying really hard not to think about it, else he breaks down and gets on one knee to propose right this second, with no ring in front of Eddie’s homophobic father. Maddie and Chim would never let him live that down.
Ramon seems to back down at the threat of never seeing Eddie or Christopher again, and Helena shoots both boys an apologetic look.
“As soon as you can look me in the eye and apologise for how you’ve treated Buck and, by extension, Christopher and me, then neither of you will be allowed back here again. That’s non-negotiable.”
Helena nods while Ramon grumbles, seeming defeated. Buck can’t really pay attention to anything over the buzzing under his skin. At some point, they both leave, and it’s just Buck and Eddie again, alone in their shared house. Home.
“If you’d needed back-up sooner, you could’ve come get me.” Eddie whispers, using the hand on the back of Buck’s neck to turn his head, forcing their eyes to meet. Buck sees his future reflected back, and he’s sure Eddie does too.
He has to ask.
“So,” He half-mumbles, eyes heavy-lidded and pure love spilling through every pore in his body. “Marriage and adoption, huh?”
Eddie seems to flush at that, but he just grins, all toothy and prideful, canines on full display in the way that Buck just adores. His other hand, the one not on his neck, reaches up to up Buck’s jaw, thumb brushing gently over the stubble he didn’t have time to shave this morning.
“Evan.”
And, usually Buck hates it when people call him by his given name. It feels too formal; foreign. Reminds him of who he was before he broke free, before he met the 118, met Eddie and Christopher, and before he met himself. Buck — the firefighter who loves everyone and everything loudly and unashamedly, the caring brother and bashful son and adventurous friend and fun uncle and remarkable lover and even a doting father.
But there’s something about the way Eddie says it; the way his tongue curls around his name like it’s something special. Like he’s something special — because he is, in Eddie’s eyes.
“You’re it for me.” Eddie breathes, turning in his place on the couch to face Buck fully, and pulling himself closer until their foreheads are resting against each other. “Marriage, adopting Chris, maybe getting a bigger house, with a cat and another kid… I want all of it. With you. I love you, so much.”
Buck lifts his own hands till they’re resting at the base of Eddie’s neck, fiddling with the chain that’s always there. “I want it all too, with you. You’re stuck with me now.” He mutters.
Sometime, Eddie started crying too. And Buck can’t help but smile, achingly wide, because this moment should be scary. Realising he’s going to get married someday, probably sooner rather than later, and he’s going to legally be a father, and own a house, and it should all be way more terrifying than it actually is.
“So, you going to make good on that promise you made me earlier?” Eddie asks, smirking as the hand on Buck’s face starts making its way lower, fingers trailing down onto his boyfriend’s abdomen.
Buck lets out a wet laugh and captures Eddie’s lips in a bruising kiss, sweet and lustful and all-encompassing, and then pushes Eddie until his back hits the cushions and he’s laying down underneath him. “I have a plan for just that.”
“Oh? Do share.”
Buck grins and licks into his mouth, pulling out a whine from the back of Eddie’s throat, which goes straight to his cock. “I blow your back out,” he mumbles, kissing along his jaw, hands wandering under his t-shirt to feel the bare skin.
Eddie groans, low and then very unashamedly moans out. “I like where this is going—” his voice breaks off when Buck presses the heel of his hand to Eddie’s crotch through his shorts. He rolls his eyes back, mouth dropped open.
“Then we go to that cafe by the station.” Buck continues licking down the line of Eddie’s collarbone, relishing in the way his boyfriend arches his back and rolls his hips into his hand, acknowledging his words with a nod. “Then… ring shopping.”
Stopping the movement in his hips, but continuing to squirm when Buck’s tongue doesn’t let up, Eddie mewls and tangles his fingers in Buck’s hair. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Buck and Eddie get married 4 months later in Athena and Bobby’s back garden. They both cry their way through the vows, and almost fall over when they get to kiss, and Eddie vehemently denies getting emotional over Christopher as the ring bearer.
When it finally happens, no one is surprised.