Chapter Text
Edmundo Diaz was not a homophobe.
Dear god, he hoped he wasn't a homophobe.
Sitting in his best friend's one good chair, knee-to-knee as Buck gesticulated wildly, eyes bright and cheeks cherry-pink, talking about being physically intimate with another man, Eddie realized with mounting horror that he might just be homophobic. He had to be. Because he felt sick to his stomach.
Buck wasn't even talking about anything particularly sexual - he had been recounting for several minutes the apparently wonderful, surprising, electrifying feeling of Tommy picking him up in a one-armed bear hug one day after work. Buck had never realized, apparently, how much he held himself back, physically, in every day interactions; how much unconscious effort he put into reigning in his strength and size. But with Tommy, who looked like he could lift the helicopters he flew (and apparently could lift 6'2" firefighter boyfriends with ease), Buck didn't have to worry about any of that.
(Eddie figured this had to be a novelty thing, a first-time-with-a-guy thing, because, really? Buck couldn't feel that physically free with anyone?)
"It's just so nice to be able to let go, y'know - a playful shove when he teases me about Star Wars, and I don't have to worry about knocking him to the ground..."
(Sure, Buck probably had to be wary of his general mass with Natalia or Taylor, and sure, Buck was a lot bigger than someone like Chim or Hen or Maddie, but come on. The difference between 6'0" and 6'2" was negligible. And Eddie and Buck had the same PR for squats, so it's not like everyone in Buck's life was some delicate little flower he was at risk of accidentally crushing.)
Buck was practically sighing dreamily as he talked about surprising Tommy at the hangar one day, and how Tommy had picked him up and spun him around like it was nothing. Eddie took a sip of his beer, wishing he'd had the forethought to grab a second one before Buck really got going.
"I never understood why women enjoyed it, I always thought it was sort of corny, I guess, but it's - it's fun! It's like you're flying, but you're still in their arms, do you know what I mean? But anyway, then we..."
(The only reason Buck had been so easily able to knock Eddie to the ground at the pick-up game is because Eddie hadn't been expecting it, okay?)
(Eddie was just as strong as Tommy. Probably.)
"And like, cologne," Buck said, a wild non sequitur, "you know how you pick up a new cologne and smell it and think, I like it, but not on me? Man, that's... You like it on your boyfriend, trust me."
Eddie nodded, urging Buck to go on, torn between loving the ebullience resonating from Buck's every pore, and happiness at seeing him so fucking happy, and the roiling, awful feeling that had him wondering how many steps it was to the bathroom if he had to be sick.
Holy shit, he was homophobic. And worse, he was being homophobic to Buck.
He refused to do that - refused to accept it. He was not disgusted by queer people. He was not nauseated by the thought of Buck kissing another man. He was supportive. He was an ally.
So he smiled when Buck talked about stealing Tommy's hoodies on cold mornings, and nodded sympathetically when he talked about how impossible it was for them to shower together because there simply was not enough room, and clapped him on the shoulder when he pulled out the keys to his Jeep, showing off the pink-purple-blue keychain Tommy had given him to commemorate coming out to his parents (that answered that question).
And when Eddie held up his hands and said Okay, there's the line, too much information when Buck talked about how weird it was to unbuckle a belt facing the wrong way ("Also, how come none of my girlfriends ever wore belts?"), he hoped his laugh didn't sound as forced as it felt.
He was happy for Buck. He was probably just developing a gluten intolerance, and the beer was making him feel this way. That was the only explanation that made sense.
That's not how gluten intolerance works.
Eddie frowned at his phone, watching the three dots as Hen typed out a second message.
You said this happened while you were hanging out at Buck's place?
Before he could reply, she sent another: Was Tommy there?
His frown deepened. No - what would that have anything to do with rapid onset nausea?
He followed up with: I'm not a homophobe, Hen!!!
Never said you were, buddy. Never said you were...
Huffing, he put his phone away. Screw medical school experience - next time, he was texting Chimney.
He wasn't planning on breaking up with Marisol before the wedding. He knew she'd been looking forward to it. But the more she talked about it - the more she talked about weddings, in general, and her opinions on venues and decor and the institution of marriage as a whole - the more he couldn't stop thinking about the realization he'd had when talking to Buck about having any more kids.
He was never going to have kids with Marisol. He was never going to marry her. He cared for her, truly - but just like with Ana, it wasn't enough. It wasn't the same way she cared for him, with the same hopes attached.
He suffered through a week of dreading the conversation before he sat her down and talked about it. Told her how much affection he had for her, but made it clear: he wasn't going to make her a mother, or a stepmother, and if that was something she needed, then...
She said it wasn't a dealbreaker, at first. Thanked him for his honesty, said she appreciated him thinking ahead, and that she understood. She told him she knew no futures were guaranteed, that she understood that when she started dating a firefighter - that any day could be your last.
"So I don't want to throw away happiness today, on the chance that I'll end up heartbroken a year from now," she said. "Eddie, I am nowhere near ready to have kids. Maybe I'll never be ready, or maybe you'll change your mind... In any case, this doesn't have to be the end of us."
It didn't have to be. But it was. He was dropping off a box of her things by his next day off.
"Slow down, big guy," Chimney said, rushing over to spot him. "That's, what, twenty pounds over your - "
Eddie shook his head, chest burning as he pressed the barbell away from his chest. "Not even close to my one rep max," he said through clenched teeth. He made it through four reps before Chimney had to jump in, grunting as he helped haul the barbell off of him.
"Next time you wanna hulk out, wait til ol' Buckeroo is here to spot you," Chimney scolded, shaking out his wrists. "Some of us are more focused on lean muscle. Agility, speed, that sort of thing."
"Not trying to hulk out," Eddie panted.
"Hulk out, crush yourself to death, whatever," Chim said, heading back to the treadmill.
Hen pulled her earbud out of her ears, dropping her kettlebells and eyeing the weight on Eddie's barbell. "What's going on?"
"Pissing contest, in absentia," Chimney answered, and Hen glanced at Eddie knowingly.
Eddie grabbed his protein shake and stormed over to the squat rack, not indulging either of them by asking what the hell that was supposed to mean.
Tommy invited him and Christopher to a monster truck rally. Sans Buck.
"I feel like I've barely seen you since Evan and I got together," he said, and Eddie could hear his smile over the phone. "I miss you, man."
"I miss you too, dude," Eddie said, and meant it. His adverse reaction to Buck and Tommy's relationship haunted him, but he really did like hanging out with Tommy. And Christopher was bouncing off the walls at the prospect of a monster truck rally (with Tommy especially, because "he's so cool, Dad, and he likes all this cool stuff, and - ")
And the rally was fun. A great way to blow off steam, jumping to their feet to holler and cheer as the trucks seemed to defy gravity.
Tommy leaned over at one point, and it had been a long time since Eddie had felt short. "It took me ages to stop wanting to rush in as soon as I saw them start to roll," Tommy said, nodding to a truck that tilted precariously on two wheels.
Eddie nodded, laughing. "Yeah, I know what you mean - the instincts run deep." He took a bite of his corndog, and Tommy reached around him to offer Christopher a napkin. Eddie couldn't help but glance down at the arm now stretched in front of his chest. "Hey man - how much do you bench?"
"Huh?" Tommy straightened up, straw between his teeth, soda can looking like a toy in his hand. "Ah, probably about three-fifteen, three-twenty? I haven't been lifting, lately, been focusing on cardio."
"Huh," Eddie said, taking another bite. "Cool, cool. Cardio, yeah."
"Dad, look! Did you see that?!"
(Three-twenty.)
(Oh god, when he said cardio, had he meant - ?)
Eddie focused his attention back on the giant trucks, enjoying his time with his son, and with his good friend.
The bachelor party arrived before he knew it. He dropped Christopher off at his friend Jason's for the night, and had to circle the block around Bobby and Athena's house three times before he could find a spot big enough to park the truck. Buck must've been running late - the Jeep was nowhere to be seen. It was possible he was starting the night off with Maddie - she and her entourage (Josh, Linda, and some other dispatchers, Athena, Karen, an old nursing friend who'd flown in, and her college roommate) were getting ready at her and Chimney's house, and Chim's group (Bobby, Hen, Albert, Ravi, a few of the guys from B-shift, Buck, Tommy, and Eddie) were meeting at Bobby's so they could pre-game with some classic Nash grilling. Eddie knew, however, that Hen and Karen both planned on swapping back and forth as the night went on, and assumed Athena would, as well. Perhaps Buck had elected to hang out with his sister before too many tequila shots and penis-themed accessories could make an entrance.
Turns out, Eddie was wrong. Buck was already there when he walked into Bobby and Athena's; the music was playing, the booze was clearly flowing, it looked like Eddie was the last to arrive.
"Eddie!" Ravi called out in greeting, waving from the bottom of the stairs.
Buck was there, alright. Eddie could see him through the sliding doors to the back yard, sitting with Tommy.
Specifically, sitting on Tommy's lap.
"Hey, Ravi," Eddie said. (Was that loud?)
(Why did he always get so loud when he was - )
He jogged down the stairs, pulling Ravi into a hug; he felt the kid startle for a second before returning it with a pat on the back. "How's covering on B-shift treating you?"
"You know, it's funny," Ravi said, "nothing crazy ever happens on B-shift. Just normal, run-of-the-mill calls. No natural disasters, or hostage situations, or - "
Eddie laughed. Ravi laughed, too, though something about it made Eddie think maybe he wasn't actually joking. Eddie glanced around, looking for a drink. Chimney and Albert were in the kitchen, there would be booze in the kitchen, right?
(He had intentionally avoided all gluten that day, Hen's texts be damned.)
(He could see Buck in the corner of his eye, dressed all in black, sitting sideways across Tommy's massive thighs like some - )
Eddie took a deep breath in through his nose, out through the mouth, and grinned as he held out his arms to Chimney. "The man of the hour! You look good, Chim!"
And he did - Chimney was in a simple but well-fitted white dress shirt, top few buttons undone, and had on a pair of light grey pants that he'd cuffed at the ankle, timeless black dress shoes on his feet. "Thank you, I was going for subtly bridal," he said, embracing Eddie warmly. "Maddie's got a white cocktail dress for the occasion, and she said it was dumb that only the brides got to wear white. Gotta say, I agree, because I look pretty damn good."
"Can we blame Maddie for this massive ego you've developed?" Albert joked; he gestured towards the sink, which was full of ice and ice-cold beer, and Eddie side-stepped Chim to grab a can.
"I managed to land the most beautiful, intelligent, funny, sexy woman to walk the earth," Chim announced proudly, "that must mean I've got something going on."
"Alright, no more calling my sister sexy while I'm in earshot." Buck grinned up at them from the dining room, alone. Eddie glanced up and saw Tommy still in the back yard, talking to Hen and Ravi.
And Tommy looks great. And huge. He's wearing a short-sleeved dress shirt, royal blue, and he looks about two seconds away from hulking out of it.
Royal blue really brought out Buck's eyes. Eddie wondered if Tommy did that on purpose; it seemed like the sort of thoughtful, adorable thing he would do.
"So, where's the first stop on this night of debauchery?" Buck asked, rubbing his hands together. "Albert, I've been told you're the mastermind behind this - "
"Pubcrawl to end all pubcrawls!" Albert announced proudly. "We're covering all our bases: we're starting off the pool hall, for cheap liquor and the last of the sober conversations; then, while properly liquored up, we're hitting the dance floor not once, not twice, but three times, just to ensure we've covered all necessary musical stylings - and don't worry, big guy, I've instructed the bus driver to make a very important In-and-Out stop between dance stops two and three, just in case we're feeling peckish. And lastly, we round out the evening in classic Howie style: karaoke."
"We are going to regret this in the morning," Chimney said, but his grin belied his rueful tone.
"Man, I cannot remember the last time I went out dancing," Buck said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.
Hen appeared over his shoulder. "Uh, so that selfie you sent me from Micky's was photoshopped, or are you saying you got so drunk you don't remember that night?"
Buck groaned. "The second option."
"Micky's?" Bobby asked, tilting his head.
"Hottest gay bar in town," Hen explained, smirking. "Something of a rite of passage, you could say."
Eddie gave up only looking at the dining room in his periphery, turning to see everyone gathered around the table, plates full of food, glasses full of drink. Hen was scrolling through her phone, showing the screen to Ravi and some of the B-shifters, cackling; Buck was blushing furiously, leaning into Tommy's side.
"In Evan's defense," he said, patting his arm, "there was very little dancing involved. Mostly stumbling. Some minor falling."
"It was dark, how was I supposed to know there were stairs there?! Who even has a sunken dance floor these days?!"
Hen's phone was passed around, and Albert and Chimney were laughing at the photo; Eddie glanced at it, mostly blocked by Chimney's wrist, saw black mesh over white skin, and looked away. If Buck thought it was embarrassing, then Eddie didn't want to see it.
(He really wanted to know what was so funny about it.)
(Where did Buck even get a mesh shirt? From his Buck 1.0 days? Was it a recent purchase?)
When he looked away from the phone, his eyes landed on Buck and Tommy, as Tommy told Ravi and Hen something about jello shots and a drag king's firefighter routine to "Hot In Herre."
Downing the rest of his beer in one go, Eddie felt eyes on him. He turned to drop his can in the recycling bin, avoiding Bobby's gaze. Albert said, "Speaking of shots..." and Eddie raised his hand enthusiastically.
It was going to be a long night.
The pool hall went well. Ravi turned out to be something of a shark, and Karen joined them for a half-hour before whisking Hen away to the bachelorette, promising to return her by the time they made it to Club #2. Tommy didn't play much, but Buck kept challenging Ravi to game after game, baffled every time he lost. Eddie beat Albert, lost to Chimney, then settled down at the bar, conserving his energy.
Bobby sidled up next to him. "So," he said, nursing his club soda. "You wanna talk about it?"
Eddie shook his head the once. "Nothing to talk about."
"You forget I was there when you told Chimney not to worry about a pescatarian option for Marisol?"
Eddie sipped his old fashioned. "I did forget that, yes."
"How are you holding up?"
Eddie shrugged. "Better than I should be."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I should feel sad when my relationships end," Eddie said, staring into his drink. "It's just like with Ana - I feel guilty, for hurting her. And I miss... I don't know, the companionship. But do I miss her? Am I sad it's over?" He shook his head. "She was a nice girl. Not a lot of women would sign on for a single dad, disabled kid, dangerous job, long hours..."
"But she wasn't the one for you," Bobby said simply, stating a fact.
"Beginning to worry there isn't one for me, Bobby," Eddie admitted.
A warm hand clapped him on the shoulder, squeezed. "I'm sure that's not true."
"I just want a relationship that feels right again," Eddie said, a little ache in his chest at the truth of it. "Being with Shannon - we were kids, yeah, and it was complicated, but... being with her, it felt like coming home."
"You have a home, here," Bobby said.
"I don't mean - " Eddie sighed. "I meant a person."
"So did I."
Eddie turned to him. "You don't understand, Bobby - "
"Oh, you're right about that," he said, chuckling. He squeezed Eddie's shoulder again. "You'll have that kind of love again, Eddie."
Eddie swallowed, the little ache echoing with each pulse of his heart. "How do you know?"
Bobby smiled at him, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Because I found that kind of love again," he said. "Me. The guy in this world who least deserved it. I spent years of my life thinking I would never fall in love again - and then one day, someone I trusted very much, someone I looked up to, he told me he thought it was time for me to get back out there. Specifically, he told me I had to stop cutting myself off from love, and just let myself feel it."
"Alright, Buckley-Han bachelor party," Albert hollered across the bar, standing up on a chair. "Get your butts back on the bus, and please put on your dancing shoes, we are heading to stop number two!"
Eddie knocked back the rest of his drink, sliding the glass towards the bartender. Bobby was already passing over his card while Eddie reached for his wallet.
"You don't have to - "
"Being in recovery makes bar crawls a very inexpensive experience," Bobby pointed out. "And I have a feeling that won't be your last round."
"Are you going home?" It was early, still, but Eddie supposed going out dancing without Athena wasn't high on Bobby's priority list. He tried and failed to picture his captain dancing at a club, in any case.
"For a bit," Bobby said. "I want to be home when Harry gets home, make sure he gets in alright; I'll be back for karaoke." He fixed Eddie with a comically serious look. "Athena and I do a mean Total Eclipse of the Heart."
"This I have to see," Eddie laughed.
"Eddie!"
He turned instinctively at the sound of his voice - Buck was waving to him from the door.
"Come on, I do not trust Albert not to leave without you - his schedule is laminated!"
"It's on a clipboard!" Chimney's voice carried from outside. "Don't let Buck within ten feet of it!"
Eddie started to go, but Bobby stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"Eddie," Bobby said, "I'd like to think you trust me."
"Of course I do, Cap."
Bobby smiled. "Alright. Then hear me when I say this: stop cutting yourself off from love. Just let yourself feel it."
Eddie felt something in his chest crack open, and he clenched his jaw to hold it together. "I don't think I know what that means."
Bobby let go of his arm. "Yeah, you do. Now get going, before that bus leaves without you."
He had enough of a buzz going that he actually managed to have a good time at the first club. It was a younger crowd, and their party was by far the most well-dressed, most of these younger guys in Carhartts and t-shirts, and this resulted in the rather awkward phenomenon of quite a number of very young women circling Eddie, Albert, and Ravi like hawks.
Chimney had, at some point, been adorned with a sash that said "Groom-To-Be" in bold black letters, so while he was offered much in the way of free drinks and drunken congratulations, he was mostly unscathed. Buck and Tommy were suitably swarmed at first, until Buck's arm had wrapped around Tommy's waist and seemed to permanently fuse in place.
Eventually, the barely-legal crowd backed off, and Eddie found himself dancing with a woman with a salt-and-pepper pixie cut, whiskey shots thrumming in his veins. His eyes were half-closed, and the music felt familiar; based on Chimney's shouts of victory and celebratory high-fives with his brother, it seemed like he'd requested some "oldies" and been rewarded.
Maybe it was the liquor, or the thunderous bass, or the fact that he could almost forget that broken-open feeling Bobby's words had left in his chest, instead focusing on the stranger in front of him, But Eddie managed to have fun, so much so that when Ravi tapped him on the shoulder and told him the bus was leaving, Eddie was almost sad to go.
Karen and Hen met them at the In-and-Out, both having the forethought to get in line and place their massive order before the bus was set to arrive - and a good thing, too, as the joint was packed with the slightly tipsy and very hungry. As it was, the guys ended up waiting twenty more minutes for their food, with Chimney and Albert starting up a raucous sing-along in the party bus while they waited.
For the second club, Eddie ended up staying on the bus with Karen and Ravi, making their way through the mountain of fries the rest of them had forgone in favour of burgers while Karen told them all about the shenanigans Maddie and her crew were getting up to. He felt much more solid with some food in his stomach, soaking up some of the alcohol, but his head still lolled drunkenly when the bus doors opened and Buck climbed back inside.
"Oh my god, it's a thousand degrees in there," he said, and judging by his appearance, he wasn't exaggerating. The first three buttons on his shirt were undone, a long strip of pale white stark against the black fabric, and his forehead and upper lip were shining with sweat. He plopped himself down next to Eddie, and the familiar smell of his deodorant, detergent, and sweat seemed to fill the bus. "They might be in there a while - half of the 147 is in there, it's somebody's birthday or something, they're all trying to get Chimney to ride the mechanical bull."
"Mechanical bull?" Ravi asked. "Is this a western bar? I'm actually really good at two-stepping - "
"Wait, are you serious?" Karen asked excitedly. "I love to two-step, Hen hates it, she says she's allergic to overlarge belt buckles and even looking at a country bar gives her hives - "
Ravi was already on his feet, extending a hand. "In that case, may I have this dance?"
Karen let him pull her up. "Yeehaw," she said with a smirk, and cackled as they raced off the bus. "Don't eat all the onion rings!"
"Ooh, onion rings?" Buck dove for a bag, shoving the food into his face gracelessly. "Oh my god, that hits the spot."
"Tell me the truth, cowboy," Eddie said with a knowing look. "Did you ride the mechanical bull?"
Buck chewed, swallowed, and said smugly, "Nine-point-six seconds."
"How long are you supposed to stay on? Ten?"
"Eight seconds, if it's a real bull," Buck said, leaning back against the seat. "Hey, did you know bull-taming in sports actually dates back to the Bronze Age? The ancient Minoans had a sport that involved doing this acrobatic leap over a charging bull - and that sport still exists, in a way, in France, there's a bull-leaping sport called course landaise - "
"Did you know this before or after going into the western bar with the mechanical bull?"
Buck closed his mouth, holding up his hands as if to say you caught me. "I may or may not have gone down a Wikipedia rabbit hole while everyone was line-dancing."
"Line-dancing? I'm missing line-dancing?" Eddie gasped in mock outrage - Buck laughed, loud and uninhibited. "It's bad enough Albert takes us to a country bar and doesn't tell the lone Texan, but now I find out I missed out on line-dancing?"
"Did you do any line-dancing in Texas?" Buck asked. "Be honest. You took a girl to the school dance, and you did the Cupid Shuffle."
"Ah, I never kiss and tell," Eddie said, waggling a finger at him while swiping an onion ring with his other hand.
"Nah, that's my job, apparently," Buck said, laughter settling down. "Hey, man, I wanted to thank you, again, for - for being there for me, through all this. Through coming out, and stuff."
"You don't have to thank me," Eddie said earnestly. "Besides, it's not like I had to do much. Seemed like a pretty smooth process."
"Yeah, I guess," Buck said, brow creasing in thought. "I mean, everyone's reactions have been - everyone's been really great about it. Things were a little weird with Mom and Dad, but..."
"But when aren't things a little weird with them?" Eddie supplied.
"Exactly," Buck agreed. "But just because everyone reacted well, doesn't mean I wasn't nervous to tell them. And you... you were the first person I told. And you - you were perfect."
It was a warm night; Buck had brought the heat of the club into the bus with him, and Eddie's cheeks felt hot. "Buck, are you forgetting that I basically forced you to come out by crashing your first date?"
Buck rolled his head along the bench seat to meet Eddie's gaze head-on. "I was still going to tell you first."
His sky-blue eyes were a little bloodshot. Eddie wondered if Buck was as drunk as he was. "Before Maddie?" he asked quietly.
Buck smiled. "She was second on the list. Then Hen - don't tell Chim, he thinks he was third."
"My lips are sealed," Eddie promised, miming locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
"Even if it was a bit earlier than I planned," Buck continued, "you said exactly what I needed to hear."
Eddie thought back to that moment, in the weight room at the firehouse. "I believe I started that conversation making some pretty wild accusations."
Buck snorted. "You mean accusing me of hanging out with Tommy to make you feel excluded on purpose?"
"Something like that."
"But then I told you it was a date," Buck said softly, smiling. "And I told you about Tommy coming to the loft, and kissing me. And you said - " Buck cleared his throat. "You said, I love you, man."
"I do," Eddie said.
"I know you do," Buck said.
"...that was it? That was 'exactly what you needed to hear'?"
Buck smiled at him, all straight white teeth and crow's feet, eyes like the sea in summertime. "Yeah. It was."
Before Eddie could confront the terrifying feeling caught in his throat, they both perked up like dogs to a whistle: a siren. An engine was coming their way.
"The 147?" Eddie posited.
"B-shift," Buck guessed.
"You think it's something cool?"
"I hope not," he said. "I hope it's super boring and lame."
"You really do want us to have all the fun, huh?"
"Hey, if you believe Ravi, we're cursed," Buck said, leaning back, and when had he leaned forward? "He's always talking about how he never has to climb into sewers when he covers for someone on B-shift."
They stayed like that, a foot apart on the long bench seat, munching on cold fries and chatting about nothing, until Chimney stumbled onto the bus, a sparkly purple cowboy hat on his head, and loudly proclaimed that it was karaoke time.
Bobby hadn't been exaggerating: he and Athena did do a mean Bonnie Tyler.
The reunion of the bachelor and bachelorette took over the entire karaoke bar; Maddie had thrown herself into Chimney's arms, kissing him all over, and promptly dragged him onstage for Kiss from a Rose. Eddie had been tasked with flipping through the songbook for Karen and Hen, who were too busy singing along to possibly do it themselves, but the instructions from a very drunk Karen were impossibly vague.
"Karen, Karen," Eddie said, trying to get her attention and failing in the face of Albert and Chimney's Dream On. "Karen, you've gotta be more specific than 'good lesbian music.'"
"I thought you were an ally, Diaz!" Hen said, pointing an accusing finger between his eyes. "You should know!"
After a few minutes, he wrote down their names next to Tracy Chapman's, right below where Tommy had drawn a terrible approximation of a car and Buck had written FAST!!!! in an arrow pointing to it. Then, when Josh took the stage to do a Nickelback song, of all things ("My father's Canadian!"), Tommy bumped his elbow.
"I'm getting some air," Tommy said, nodding his head towards the doors. "Care to join?"
"Yes," Eddie said gratefully, deeply aware of how his shirt was sticky with sweat between his shoulder blades. He turned to grab Buck, but Tommy held out a hand to stop him.
"I think Evan's good for now," he said, and Eddie looked again; Buck was bent over the song book with Maddie, arguing between two songs, quickly dissolving into the most childish sibling fight Eddie had ever seen, including spats with his own sisters.
"We're doing mine, I'm older," Maddie insisted, reaching for the slip of paper and golf pencil.
"Yeah, well, I'm bigger," was Buck's reply, holding them straight above his head.
"Evan, it's my bachelorette party!"
"I am not dueting Taylor Swift!"
"I'm the bride!"
"I'm the man of honour!"
"Exactly, you have to do what I say - "
"That does not extend to singing - "
"You coming?" Tommy asked, already standing, and Eddie tore his gaze away from the spectacle unfolding before him, all underscored by Josh singing about being far away for far too long.
It was a hot night in LA, and the air outside wasn't much better than the AC inside, but it was quieter, and Eddie took a deep breath as soon as he stepped out of the doors. He followed Tommy a few steps away, leaning against the side of the building, staring up at the sky.
"Shame about the light pollution," Tommy said mildly.
"Yeah," Eddie agreed. "Shame the only place in LA where you can see stars is the observatory."
Tommy grunted in agreement, and they stood there in companionable silence, occasionally privy to a particularly enthusiastic cheer from inside the bar.
"I wanted to talk to you about something, Eddie," Tommy said suddenly, still looking at the sky, "but I... I guess I've been a bit of a coward about it."
Eddie turned to him, worried. "What's up, Tommy?"
"Nothing bad," Tommy said. "It's just... about Evan."
Eddie licked his lips, tasting the remnants of the drink he'd left half-finished on the table. "Is everything okay with Buck?"
"Everything's great," Tommy said instantly. "Everything. He's amazing - adventurous, and insightful, and a huge dork - " Eddie huffed in agreement at that one, thinking back to Bronze Age bull-leaping. Tommy stood up a little straighter, turning to face Eddie but not quite meeting his eye. "He's probably the most incredible man I've ever met."
The night air was like ice against his skin. Eddie suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands - he shoved them into his pockets. "You don't have to tell me twice," he said lamely. "He's - he's Buck."
"Yeah," Tommy said, eyebrows draw together, his mouth quirked up at the corners but the smile not meeting his eyes. "Yeah, I know I don't have to tell you that." A heartbeat passed, then Tommy locked eyes with Eddie, and said, "I do have to tell you that I'm falling in love with him."
Whatever had cracked earlier in Eddie's chest, was cleft in two.
From inside, a chorus of cheers erupted, loud enough to penetrate the ringing in his ears.
"You're - " The word seemed to strangle Eddie, caught in his throat, and he swallowed around it. "You - Of course you are," he said, because of course - of course he was. "He's Buck. He's - and you, you're so good for him," Eddie said, gesturing wildly towards the broad expanse of Tommy's chest. "He's crazy about you, he's..."
Eddie suddenly remembered that you're supposed to smile when someone tells you good news. He grinned so hard he's pretty sure he cracked a molar. "That's great news, Tommy. Really, that's - wow. Wow. In love, huh? That's - that's fast. That's - not that it's too fast, or anything, I wouldn't... I wouldn't say that..." He fought to keep the smile up, even though he could feel a bone-deep exhaustion sinking into his bones, at odds with the thundering of his pulse.
Tommy's smile had fallen away, and he was looking at Eddie with a very vulnerable sort of thoughtfulness.
Eddie cleared this throat. "Why... You said you had to tell me that. Why are you telling me, and not...?"
Tommy didn't say anything.
Eddie put the pieces together.
"If this is because you think I have a problem with the two of you," he said urgently, "or with Buck being bi, I swear, I don't - I'm beyond, beyond happy for you guys, for him, I - You know, you are exactly the type of person Buck deserves, you know, you're a great, great guy, and he's - like I said, he's totally crazy about you."
Tommy nodded, just once, but his face didn't change, and he didn't say anything. If he made a sound at all, Eddie couldn't hear it, could only hear a chorus in his head going shit shit shit shit -
"It makes perfect sense!" he said, too loud, always too loud when he - "You're perfect for him, you're exactly what he needs, you're stable, but you're a thrill-seeker, and you're - you're older, and Buck likes older, his last serious relationship was with Abby and she was, what, sixteen years older than him? And you're a romantic, and normally Buck's the guy with the big romantic gestures, and y'know, it's his turn to be wooed, y'know, it's his turn to have someone make him feel special. And you're able to prioritize him, you're able to put him first and - "
Why wasn't Tommy saying anything? Why was he letting Eddie go on like this? And why couldn't Eddie make himself shut the fuck up?
"You're falling in love with him," Eddie said, grinning again, "hell yeah! Who wouldn't fall in love with him, right? He's amazing, he's - brave, and thoughtful, and tenacious, definitely tenacious, and he's never afraid to make a fool of himself, and he's affectionate across the board, always makes you feel like you're the most important person in the room, but he's the one who - and he's reckless, god he's completely reckless, and self-sacrificing, and a complete fucking idiot ninety percent of the time, with zero self-preservation instincts, and - and he's a lifesaver, literally, he saves lives every day, and he's - " Eddie's voice was cracking, his hands were shaking, but he couldn't stop - "he's so open to joy, he so badly wants to be happy, and he finds happiness, whether it's helping my kid through some boring algebra homework or busting out the saws and jaws on a call, and, god, he's so gentle and, and comforting to the people we save, he makes them feel so safe, and it's not some technique from the academy or psychological whatever, it's just the way he is, it's like he's this bright light in your life, even when he's being a petty little - and he's gorgeous, he's so - he's so much, all the time, and he's, yeah, of course you're in love with him, who wouldn't be in love with him, hell, I'm in love with him, I - "
Time stopped.
Eddie's heart stopped.
What?
"I - I don't know why I said that."
Tommy's smile was more than half wince. "I do."
"I didn't mean it like that," Eddie said; then, more firmly, "I didn't mean it like that."
But Tommy was looking at him with the most complicated expression on his face, frustration mixed with confusion and finally settling into something close to sympathy. "You sure about that?"
It hurt Eddie to look at him. He couldn't look away. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
After an endless moment, Tommy nodded. Then nodded again. Then he said, "I'm gonna head back inside, say my goodbyes. I'm not gonna say anything about..." He gestured vaguely to Eddie. "I am going to talk, to Evan. Soon. And I think you should, too."
Eddie felt his head shaking back and forth; his whole body felt hollow.
"You should," Tommy said, and Eddie couldn't take it. He slumped against the wall, legs failing to hold him upright.
Tommy nodded again, more to himself than to Eddie, and started to head back inside. He stopped, just before the door. "This is why I had to tell you," Tommy said, not looking up, "before I told him. So, talk to him."
He went inside.
Eddie sat on the ground. Fought to pull a deep breath into his lungs. And another.
Then he was up, and he was gone.
Eddie woke up the next morning to half a dozen berating text messages, scolding him for his Irish Goodbye, the ghost of a hangover lingering despite the fact that he'd felt stone cold sober by the time the cab had dropped him off at home.
He had stayed in bed, still in the outfit he'd gone out in, shoes and all, all morning. He wasn't expecting Christopher home until the early evening, and he had no intention of moving a muscle until he absolutely had to.
He made it to early afternoon before his bladder won the battle, and he resolutely ignored his reflection as he washed his hands. He would face himself another day.
He returned to bed, only to see his phone screen dim back to sleep, a notification missed. He ignored that, too. Chris rarely texted him, anyway - knew it was faster to just to call.
By the time Christopher did call, asking if he could stay at Jason's for dinner just so they could finish up the pizza they'd ordered the night before, Eddie was almost ready to face the world. He stripped off his now sweat-stained shirt and kicked off his wrinkled chinos, pitching his briefs across the room with no regard for the laundry basket, and debated for far too long whether he needed this shower to be icy cold or scalding hot. In the end, he split the difference, lukewarm water sluicing off the dried sweat and doing nothing about the shame, letting the shampoo suds drip into his eyes so he didn't have to accept any other reason they stung and watered.
He should call Tommy. He should apologize. He'd been drunk, and he'd just broken up with Marisol, and...
And he couldn't call Tommy and lie to him. Edmundo Diaz may be many things, but he wasn't a liar.
At least, he'd thought he wasn't.
He took a sick day, the next day. And the day after that.
That's not how hangovers work, Hen texted. He'd finally started acknowledging his phone.
(One unread message from Buck.)
I'm not hungover, Eddie replied to her. I think it's a stomach bug.
She started typing, then stopped. Three dots, no dots. Three dots again.
More sudden onset nausea?
Eddie sighed. It seemed like he was finally in on the joke.
Something like that, he replied, then shoved his phone under his pillow.
He should have known three days was too much to ask for. Buck let himself in with his spare key.
"You're actually sick," he said, disbelief evident in his voice.
Seeing as Eddie was, in fact, not sick, he took this to mean he looked like absolute dog shit. "You don't look so hot yourself," he said, and it was only half a lie. Buck was still Buck, so he was still all broad shoulders and plush lips and eyelashes, but he looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his hair was the same tousled mess as when he just pulled off his helmet.
"It's, uh," he shifted his weight, still standing in the foyer. "It's been a rough few days."
Eddie walked into the living room, not looking to see if Buck was following him. He sunk down onto the couch, head in his hands.
"You talked to Tommy," he said into his palms. It wasn't a question.
He felt the couch sink where Buck sat down next to him. "How did you know about that?"
Eddie tried to reconcile that response to his understanding of the situation. "Maybe I don't know about it," he replied, unable to make sense of it. "I - I was referring to what Tommy and I talked about, outside the karaoke bar."
He heard Buck shift his weight. "He, uh. He never told me what you guys talked about. He left right after he came back in, and you were - " Buck sighed. "You had me really worried, Eddie. You were just gone."
Eddie mumbled an apology. He wished he could just be gone from this conversation, but Buck had cornered him in his own house.
Tommy hadn't said anything. So why was...?
"What're you doing here, Buck?"
A slow intake of breath. "I wanted to see you."
"Why?"
A long pause. Then, "I think Tommy and I are breaking up."
Eddie sat up, turning to Buck in horror. "Wh- Why?"
Buck just shook his head.
"Did he - ?"
"He didn't do anything," Buck said, his voice barely audible. "He didn't do anything wrong."
Eddie nodded; of course he didn't. He'd never hurt Buck - he loved him.
But Buck wasn't alright, and Eddie had no idea what to say. For some reason, his mind brought him back to the time they were in the back of the ambulance with a live grenade embedded in their patient; he had the same horrified feeling that a bomb was about to go off.
"I'm sorry," was all he could say, his voice barely a whisper.
Buck just shook his head. "Let's not - " He cut himself off. "Have you eaten today? You look like shit, Eddie."
"I made breakfast for Chris, before taking him to school."
"Did you eat any of that breakfast?"
"Some." A glass of orange juice and a bite of toast.
"Come on - I'm making you soup." And then Buck was up and in the kitchen, making himself busy. Eddie dragged himself off the couch and followed him, and for the next forty minutes, they only spoke in directions and responses ("Dice these carrots for me.", "Are you out of chicken stock?", "Do you want these star noddles in it, or not?"), and somehow, they both seemed to come back to themselves.
By the time Eddie was pulling out bowls, he felt stable enough to say it and mean it. "I'm really sorry about you and Tommy. I know how much you guys cared about each other."
Buck paused in his final taste test, spoon halfway to his mouth. "Uh, yeah," he said. "We did - we do, care about each other."
Eddie pulled open the silverware drawer slowly, not wanting to break this fragile truce they'd seemed to find. "And that's not enough?"
Buck set the wooden spoon down. "Not enough... and too much, at the same time."
All Eddie could do was nod. He grabbed two spoons and a ladle, setting the latter on the counter by Buck's elbow before heading to the table.
They ate in silence. The soup was pretty good.
Eddie couldn't stop thinking about his conversations with Bobby.
He cleared his throat when his bowl was half-empty. "Since we're, y'know... already talking about some difficult stuff," he broached, "I've been meaning to talk to you about something, and it wasn't - there wasn't a good time, while you and Tommy were - "
Buck fumbled with his spoon, dropping it into his near-empty bowl with a clatter. He picked it up, carefully. "What is it?"
Eddie bit the inside of his cheek. He had a feeling that if he didn't say this now, he'd never say it. "I was thinking that... the next time you start, uh, seeing someone - man or woman or... I want us to... God, I don't know how to - I hadn't figured out how to say it, yet."
"Just say it," Buck said, eyes wide and voice small.
So Eddie just said it. "I want us to have a more serious conversation before we introduce your partners to Christopher."
Buck blinked at him. "What?"
"I know with Tommy, it was weird, because he met Chris as a friend of mine, first, so I'm not - " He took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts, unsettled by the intense look Buck had fixated on him. "I'm not saying you did anything wrong. You didn't. It just made me realize that you're not just my friend Buck - you're not even Uncle Buck, not to Christopher. You're - you're like a second father, to him, and if you're bringing someone new into his life, it's more serious than I realized it was. They say you should wait a year before introducing a new partner to your kids." He stirred his soup with fervour, ignoring the way his hand shook. "I know Christopher's getting older, but he's still a kid, and he's still got things to work through, about his mom, and I haven't been helping that, with Ana, and now with Marisol, and you're - besides me, you're the closest thing he has to a consistent parent, and I - Buck?"
Buck had stood up from the table with such intensity that his chair clattered to the floor. He stalked into the kitchen, then back towards the table, then back again, hands flitting between running through his hair, wiping over his face, and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Buck, I didn't mean to - "
"Didn't mean to what, Eddie?" he asked bluntly, stopping in his tracks. "What didn't you mean to do?"
"I didn't mean to make you upset," he said, his voice dull to his own ears.
"Upset," Buck repeated, a splotchy red flush climbing up his neck and the high points of his cheeks. "Yeah, Eddie, I am upset. I'm upset because I'm supposed to sit here, and listen to you tell me that I'm like a second father to Christopher, that I'm the closest thing he has to a parent besides you, and that's not what I want, Eddie! I'm upset because I don't want to be like a second father to him, I want to be a father to him! I don't want to be close to a parent, I want to be his parent, I - " Tears were running in rivulets down his cheeks, catching in the corners of his mouth, pursed in a trembling frown. "I love him like he is my son. I have since the day I met him. And I - " He reached up to wipe his face, furiously, his hands shaking visibly. "And I want to be his dad, Eddie. I want us to be his dads. Together, the two of us, I want that. I want that so much that it scares the shit out of me, I want that so much that when Tommy - when Tommy told me he was in love with me, that he wanted a future with me, all I could think was, I have a future, and it's with them. And I thought this could be enough for me, I really did, but then I learned what it feels like to - to be with someone, the way I was with Tommy, to be in a relationship with another man, and now I know that this isn't enough for me, Eddie, it's not enough for me to be almost part of this family." He took in a wild, shaking breath. "But I'm just gonna have to live with it, because I can't live without you guys."
And then he was sobbing, palms pressed tight against his eyes, and Eddie hadn't even realized he'd stood up until he was wrapping his arms around him, tucking him into his chest as best he could, trying to hold him tight enough that the shaking stopped.
Buck's awful, hiccuping breaths nearly drowned him out, but Eddie could only manage a whisper when he said "I told Tommy I was in love with you."
Buck stopped breathing.
"When we talked outside," Eddie said faintly. "He told me he was going to tell you... and that was the most scared I've felt since you got struck by lightning."
Buck lifted his head, his face a wreck, and he was the most beautiful person Eddie had ever seen.
"You're not almost family, Evan Buckley," Eddie said, his own voice shaking. "You are my family. You're Christopher's father."
"I love you." Buck said it like a sob, like the words were being ripped out of him. "Eddie, I - "
"I'm in love with you, Buck," Eddie said, and he reached up to try and wipe some of the tears from his face. "I think... I think I have been for a really long time."
Buck's eyes fell closed. He nodded, deep breaths rattling them both where they were pressed together. "Okay," he said, sounding a bit more like himself. "Yeah, I - I can work with that."
The laugh felt wild when it escaped Eddie's chest. "You can work with that, huh?"
"Yeah," Buck said simply, and the grin on his face could have knocked the sun out of the sky, and then Eddie was holding him, face pressed into his neck, and he was never, ever letting go.
An hour later, they were on the couch, Eddie propped against the arm, with Buck's massive frame sprawled on top of him, his head on his chest.
"So, do I still have to wait a year before I tell Chris about this new man in my life, or...?"
"Shut the fuck up, Buck."
"Oh yeah?" Buck lifted his head, a challenging smirk on his face. "You gonna make me?"
Edmundo Diaz was never one to back down from a challenge. He cradled Buck's stupid, beautiful face in his hands, and he kissed him.