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“It wasn’t like that! I was just terrified of him, it wasn’t a crush,” Ravi protests loudly, his tone almost hysterical and repulsed, and Buck raises his eyebrows.
They’re having lunch at the station during an otherwise calm shift, and Buck has no idea how they got onto the subject, but suddenly, Ravi’s red-faced and huffing and embarrassed while Hen passes him the salad.
“You don’t have to say it like that, like it’s a disgusting idea that you’d have a crush on me,” Buck argues petulantly, wildly offended by Ravi’s reaction to Chimney’s comment, and Bobby sighs so lowly it becomes a whistle. Eddie stifles a grin as he eats a giant bite of pizza. “Lucy liked me when she started working here!”
“Probably because it was slim pickings,” Chimney responds nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders while Buck splutters.
Hen snickers, and Buck wheels around to look at her. “Really, Hen? You’re taking his side?” Buck snips while Bobby grabs a slice of garlic bread and looks heavenwards as they continue to bicker.
“Anyway,” Chimney talks loudly over them all as if he’s playing god. “It’s not a big deal; it happens to everyone at some time or another here. Like Ravi with Buck,” Ravi throws his hands in the air, defeated. “Or like Bobby with me,” Bobby shrugs his shoulders at the group while Buck gapes at him. “Or Buck with Eddie when he first started,” Chimney nods at the final pair, inhaling another slice of pizza into his huge mouth, humming in approval, unaware that five sets of eyes were now locked onto him. He opens his eyes and pauses. “What?”
Buck’s eye twitches, and he very carefully doesn’t look at Eddie sitting beside him. He knows Eddie’s frozen because his fork is raised awkwardly in the air, halfway to his mouth, with a cube of cucumber hanging off it. There are no tomatoes in his salad because Eddie hates them, and Buck fished them all out one by one from Eddie’s plate and put them on his own instead while Eddie grabbed everyone’s drinks before they all sat down.
It takes a moment, but it finally clicks in Chimney’s head. “Oh, fuck,” he flashes his eyes to Buck in terror, wide-eyed, and Buck truly loves the guy, loves him like a brother, but sometimes he wishes Chimney wasn’t his actual brother because Maddie has clearly shared this little Buck fact with Chimney Can’t-Keep-A-Secret-To-Save-His-Life Han, and it’s not like Buck can kill Chimney because he’s Jee’s dad and it’s just –
Great.
This is great.
And look, Buck’s come to terms with it, he really has. Buck’s had years to process his feelings and be at peace with it. At first, it was all these emotions coated in confused jealousy and misplaced resentment for Eddie, an unfair disguise when, in actuality, Buck wanted Eddie so much. Obviously, clearly.
Wanted to step into his world and meet Christopher, be there for Eddie when things were tough, and help handle the burdens in his life together as a team. And then it was solidified as friendship, firm and sweet and meaningful and all Buck could ask for, because he wouldn’t screw up friendship, not the way he does all romantic relationships in his life. And he’d have to be happy with that, he knows, even when the feelings swirled and oozed out of him in painful pangs when Eddie started seeing Shannon again, this obsessive and aching feeling eating away at him, which came back with Ana, Marisol. The sharp sting when Kim was right in front of Buck at the station, and Buck realized it. Oh.
Eddie’s always going to think back to Shannon, isn’t he? It’s always going to be her. She was there first; she was there for all the ways that mattered, and she was taken too soon. And that all pointed in one direction; Eddie would always see her in a way no one else could touch, could reach, could be.
The love of his life, right?
And that’s the crux of this all. Eddie doesn’t feel that way for Buck back. Eddie sees Buck as his best friend, that’s all, not the love of his life or his partner or his everything. So, Buck poured so much love out there for Eddie to take; he could have as much as he desired, and Buck kept the final part to himself, sheltered the part madly in love with Eddie and devoted to him, tucked away carefully deep inside himself where no one would find it.
And Eddie was never meant to know that.
Chimney has a hangdog expression written all over his face, flushed red and wincing, and Buck sighs as he unclenches his fist and waves around the table, a mock imitation of casualness.
“Alright, guys. It’s fine. I mean, I guess I had a tiny crush on Eddie back when he first started here, but I totally, completely got over it. So, Chim’s right, it happens. Probie, it’s all good if you had a crush on me, too,” Buck smiles, attempting to break the tension, and it works as Ravi goes to protests again that he never liked Buck like that, and Hen interjects that she actually thought she saw some signs there and –
Buck turns to Eddie while the rest talk around them and sees Eddie’s gaze locked on him. Swallowing heavily, Buck knocks a knee into Eddie’s.
You okay?
Eddie returns the pressure on his knee immediately, nodding and smiling back. His cheeks are a little rosy, Buck notices, and the point of contact between them doesn’t shift all the way through lunch. Buck cherishes it, tucks it into his chest, and reminds himself this is not meant to be Eddie’s burden to carry, too. This stays with Buck.
This stays with Buck.
***
When a man goes to war, not much else can really shake him to his core. Hostage situations? No problem. Trapped down a well? Easy. Getting shot at? It happens.
Your best friend had a crush on you?
Well. Uh.
Eddie’s reeling, still, from that fact, hours after lunch. They’d just finished up their shift, and it was all Eddie could think about the whole time, from sweeping the floors to getting changed to saying bye to driving home, it was all one thought on a loop he was twisting and twirling and obsessing over.
Buck had a crush on me?
Just like that, the idea is planted in his head, and Eddie fucking sows it. Because wow, just wow. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t that be fucking wonderful? Eddie pictures it, imagines being with Buck like that, going to bed every night giggling in bed and going to parent-teacher conferences together and holding hands while grocery shopping and a fucking joint savings account, and Eddie goes light-headed over it all as he rubs at the feeling buzzing in his chest as he finally thinks about it.
It would be perfect, wouldn’t it? His heart speeds up at the thought of it all, the rush; he thinks of Buck’s pretty pink lips that he’s watched a million times talk to him before, but now… Eddie’s picturing Buck rambling about some new documentary he watched, but this time, Eddie kisses them because he can’t help himself, and it makes his stomach flutter manically to think about it. Eddie could pull at Buck’s lips and bite and suck, and they were only for Eddie.
What would change, really? They just get to be themselves; only Buck would stay over instead of leave in the evenings, and Eddie could call him anytime he wanted and hold onto him, and it would be smiles in the morning and kisses after brushing their teeth over a shared sink, and Eddie needs to sit down.
It's Buck, isn’t it?
Buck, his sunshine eyes and giant heart and soft soul, all of it, Buck, Buck –
And then the lightness brewing in his chest, the pounding adrenaline, and fizzling hope comes crashing down because –
Had.
Past tense. Buck had a crush on Eddie.
Buck… Buck got over it. Over Eddie.
And Eddie feels fundamentally different knowing this now. Looks back at their lives together these past seven years and wonders if he did something different, if he made a different choice, would he and Buck be together now?
What if he kissed Buck in the hospital when he woke up after the shooting? What if he asked Buck to stay with them after they picked up Chris when the earthquake hit? What if he held Buck’s hand over a grenade stuck in a man’s leg and asked him if he’d like to go on a date?
Because this whole time, it was Buck, wasn’t it? And Eddie never fucking realized it until it was too late.
He’s in love with his best friend. The thought crashes through him like a tidal wave, filling his lungs up and slowly releasing, holding him steady in the knowledge. And it doesn’t drown him. It sets him on fire.
Eddie has a whole family built with Buck; they have a shared calendar posted in Eddie’s kitchen with their handwriting dancing all over it; Christopher’s school has both of them listed as his emergency contacts; Buck’s in his fucking will and knows all of Eddie’s passwords and gets Eddie his favorite soup when he’s sick, and Eddie didn’t even realize any of this until someone had to literally point it out to him? That this life was an option?
Because it was.
Was.
And now here he is, sitting in his home and in love with his best friend, and it just took him a minute to catch up, but it’s too late.
There’s nothing else to it, apparently. Eddie kicks a kitchen chair and scrubs a hand over his head, and thinks of how miserably unfair his life is that he realizes the most important romantic relationship of his life slipped through his fingers, and he never even knew.
Checking the time, Eddie has a few hours to nap before he needs to run some errands and pick up Christopher from school. Buck would normally tag along, Eddie glad for the company, glad for Buck to be near him, but today, Buck’s babysitting Jee while Maddie and Chimney go house hunting, and Eddie groans pathetically into his hands because he asked Buck for pictures of them together. And that’s a normal thing they usually do, sending pictures of themselves with the kids, but now Eddie thinks about it, and he realizes he only wants the pictures so he can hoard them for his own selfish wishes. Wants to see Buck and his big dumb arms holding a tiny toddler, his thick stupid chest supporting a tiny little thing, and this is how Eddie’s always been, hasn’t it?
Eddie has a precious few hours to get it together because Buck promised to come over in the evening and cook them dinner, and Eddie said yes, obviously, of course, he said yes. When would he ever say no to Buck? And isn’t that how Eddie sees Buck’s time? Selfishly, he sees it as his, as theirs, as if Buck’s time is owed to the Diaz home and tied to the people living there.
Past tense.
His head drops into his hands, and he groans as the ache in his chest widens another inch.
***
Buck’s going to murder Chimney. He’s going to find a crow and bond with it, and the crow will form a deep sense of loyalty to Buck because they’re really smart like that, and Buck will work with his crow to intricately set up a plan to murder Chimney in the worst way imaginable.
Well, probably not, because Buck guesses Maddie would probably be a little pissed with Buck if he murdered the father of her child, but it would be totally justified.
Because it’s all Chimney’s fault that now, when Buck’s around Eddie, it’s weird, and that is his best friend, and no, Buck’s not being overdramatic, Maddie, he thinks this is definitely the worst thing to happen to him. Maddie groaned as Buck mourned this all to her over the phone in between calls the next time he was at work.
Buck went over that night, like normal, to hang out with the Diazes after babysitting Jee, making sure to teach her that pulling at her daddy’s hair is actually a very funny game. It was meant to be their usual rhythm, where they have dinner and hang out and play games and watch TV before Chris trots off to do homework or chat with friends before he sleeps, leaving Eddie and Buck together for a little while, but now it’s shifted abruptly.
Because Eddie would normally hand Buck a beer when Chris leaves, and they’d watch something on the TV before inevitably Buck would sleep over or hit the road, but now? Now, Eddie hems and haws and frets like a mother hen when Buck asks what they want to do. Eddie goes pink, and his eyes are wide, and he says that hey, why don’t they watch another episode? Except it’s really late, past the time they usually stay up, and when Buck points that out, Eddie swallows heavily and looks around and asks if Buck should just crash the night. Buck would, except Eddie was staring at him all through dinner and on the couch, so maybe Buck should get out of his hair. Eddie shakes his head when Buck jokes about the couch hurting his back, so he turns bright red and asks if Buck wants to sleep somewhere else instead of the couch, with heavy emphasis, and Buck wonders if it’s a bizarre hint that Buck should actually leave so he offers as much again, getting up, but then Eddie looks so disappointed, and he doesn’t know how to win here.
And then there was their next shift, where Eddie went from cool, calm, and collected at a call to pissy, storming away with anger radiating in his eyes when a patient started talking to him and Buck. It wasn’t anything new; the patient was eying the both of them up and taking a shot at them both to see if either would bite, and Buck brushed it off, but the patient leered with a sharp smile, hand on Buck’s arm and flipping long hair in Eddie’s direction when the guy turned and charged away. Buck was left alone to fend for himself before Bobby came to gently pull him away. Buck sighed in relief, but Eddie wouldn’t make eye contact until Buck told Bobby thanks for saving him. And then, when they’re back in the station, Eddie’s smiling widely at Buck, handing him coffee and listening to him explain the latest podcast he listened to, where they ask about your dream dinner and Eddie’s nodding eagerly as Buck explains his elaborate menu while Bobby smirks behind him.
It has been a very confusing turn of events for Buck.
His head hurts trying to make sense of Eddie’s weird behavior and mood, and his gut sinks when he realizes it all started when Chimney opened his mouth.
Over lunch, Bobby got them outside grilling, and Buck handed Eddie a hamburger and the sun was shining in Eddie’s eyes, so Buck tried to cup his hand to block it for him, but then Eddie started choking and he grimaced painfully before he darted away, hiding behind Ravi for a full twenty minutes before he ventured out again to sit next to Buck on the couch in the loft, his eyes nervously darting over to Buck every few moments.
Buck could ask, sure. Buck could do the mature thing and address the elephant in the room, but Buck’s recklessness is inspired, and his mouth really doesn’t stop to let his brain think first.
“You know, you’re doing a really good job with the whole Kim thing,” Buck mentions out of the blue, and Eddie turns woodenly to stare at him. It’s been months since the whole fallout happened, where Chris left and came back, and Buck is certain Eddie thinks he’s losing it because was that a good job? Eddie hasn’t been shy about saying how that episode was sort of like Eddie blowing up his whole life.
“Right,” Eddie says slowly, but Buck steamrolls him, thankful that everyone else has cleared out of the loft for the moment and doesn’t have to watch this car crash unfold.
“I mean, you know, you’re working on all your… feelings, right? About Shannon and Kim. How her leaving made you feel… and yeah, I’m proud of you. You’re moving on and letting the past stay in the past, and you’re moving in a new direction. That’s a good thing,” Buck explains, knowing full well that Eddie opening up more to Chris and choosing joy has helped him leaps and bounds in being the man he wants to be, and a part of Buck wonders whether Eddie realizes just how much Shannon would want him to be happy, too.
“Oh,” Eddie says, looking down at his mug and playing with the tea label. His thumb catches on it and then peels it a little before he rips part of it. “Yeah, right.”
“Right. I know it must be tough, but you’ll get through it. And if not, I got your back, right buddy?” Buck finishes lamely, taking a swig of his beer, and Eddie frowns heavily.
“Right, because you’ve moved on, too,” Eddie states dully, and Buck’s heart lurches because it’s too close to the truth, too close to the nerve, but he pastes on a weak smile to his face anyway, thinks of Tommy and Taylor and Abby and all the others he no longer sees or thinks about, and carefully doesn’t think about the one he can’t move on from, who’s sat right beside him.
“Exactly,” Buck says through gritted teeth, and if anything, Eddie’s shoulders slump, and his lips jut out a little.
“Great.”
They watch whatever it is on TV, some show Hen was watching before she left to call Karen, but Buck remembers nothing from it. He does remember how Eddie’s arm was pressed up against his and didn’t move for a full hour before their next call.
***
Eddie’s about to start hissing.
He hates everyone staring at Buck at calls; he hates the way they cloy for his attention and thinks his smiles are special when they’re not, they’re not special for them. They’re special for Buck’s family, for Jee and Maddie, for Bobby and Hen and Chimney, for Eddie and Chris.
It’s a clawing feeling he can’t itch because now he knows how he feels he wants to announce it, act on it, make it a fact that he belongs to Buck and Buck belongs to him but he can’t.
His life fucking sucks.
Maybe asking Buck about it during a call isn’t his best idea, but Eddie’s known how Buck felt about him for just over 48 hours, and he’s reaching a limit.
“When was it?” Eddie asks abruptly as Buck puts away their equipment on the truck. He jumps as Eddie circles him, letting out a little laugh.
“Jeez, Eddie, we need to put a bell on you,” Buck jokes, and then he tilts his head, frowning. “When was what?”
“When did you get over me?” Eddie should really learn when to shut up, but his brain moves sluggishly, and his mouth runs ahead of him, whether he likes it or not. “What was it, what did I do that made you move on?” Eddie pushes, and a part of him wonders if maybe he just stopped doing whatever it was that made Buck stop liking him, undoes whatever it was that caused Buck to move on, that maybe he’d get his chance back, could tell those people at calls to shove it, get out of here, he’s mine, he wants me again, he picked me.
Buck flushes, bright pink, and he stammers. “W-well, Eddie, uh. It’s not like that, it just, um, sort of just happened?” Buck swallows harshly and then turns his head in the other direction. “Oh yeah? Bobby? Did you hear? Bobby’s calling me,” Buck says hastily, and Eddie tries to grab his arm and tell him Bobby would have used the radio, but Buck slips by, and Eddie groans as he hits his head against the truck.
He slumps, scrubbing a useless hand in his hair, and there’s a tutting sound beside him. Squinting, he sees Hen shaking her head as she peels off her gloves.
“What?” Eddie asks, and Hen sighs lowly.
“You two might be the biggest, dumbest idiots I know.” She declares, and Eddie gapes.
“That’s not fair, you know Chimney too,” Eddie points to the man in question, who is chatting to Ravi as they wait for the ladder to retract. Chimney looks over and waves at them.
“At least Chimney’s married to his Buckley life partner,” Hen mutters under her breath, and Eddie jolts, his heart lurching and pacing painfully in his chest. Life partner.
“Oh, so we’re making jokes about it already?” Eddie scowls, his heart hurting as he pictures it. Everyone laughing at Eddie, fumbling over the gift that is being with Buck while he moves on and dates anyone he wants to. “That’s going to make me feel great,” Eddie announces, throwing his jacket and helmet into the truck.
Hen raises her eyebrows. “We don’t have to make jokes if you just told Buck how you felt,” she counters, and Eddie scoffs.
“Right, tell Buck how I feel? What does it matter how I feel, he’s moved on,” the words taste like rot on his lips, and Eddie shakes his head before snapping up. “Hey!”
He rubs the back of his neck where Hen thumped it, and he looks over at her, wide-eyed. “What was that for?”
Pinching the bridge of her nose under her glasses, Hen sighs. “You think Buck, Evan Buckley, moved on from you? You think the man helping you raise your son, who spends nearly every single day of his life glued to your side, a human Golden Retriever, got over you?”
Eddie’s heart stutters, but he frowns to protect himself. Crosses his arms, wants to stomp his foot, and says it’s not nice to give me hope, Hen, because how would I get over it if it’s all wrong? “He dated plenty of people since he’s met me, Hen.”
“Right, and how many lasted? Oh yeah, none.”
Eddie kicks a rock and then sighs miserably.
“I don’t know what to do. I care about him so much, I can’t ruin this,” Eddie admits lowly, and Hen’s hand comes up to his shoulder, squeezing tightly.
She smiles. “If you can trust me with one thing, it’s this: tell him how you feel, Eddie.”
Buck stands in a beam of sunshine by Bobby’s side, and Eddie stares at him and wants to go back to that very first day and start again. Tell Buck I’m right here, I get it now, I’m here. I’m sorry it took me so long, but wait for me, pick me again, I’m right here, I’ll always be here, I love you so much –
Eddie imagines moving on for the rest of his life, and his chest lurches as if he’s been shot. It’s a hollow, crumpled feeling as his insides start to shatter, and he stares at Buck and knows, deep down inside, Hen’s right. He can’t live like this.
Buck’s always deserved to know how deeply loved he really is.
***
Buck’s been feeling down since this all came out. And they’re barely halfway through the week, he isn’t sure how to stomach the rest of their lives, really, like this.
They just finished their shift, Bobby patting his back and offering for him to come back to his place, but Buck thinks some space will do him some good. He’ll go to his place, eat his weight in ice cream, and he’ll be fine.
Maybe.
That was the plan, at least, until Eddie suddenly knocked on the front door of his loft and stormed in just a few hours later.
“Uh, Eds? What’s going on?” Buck asks, bewildered, checking the time. It’s just before noon, and usually, Eddie would be cleaning up the house before Chris comes home from school. It’s Tuesday, so it’s laundry day. “Everything oka–”
Eddie’s a buzz of frenetic energy, pacing the moment the loft door closes, and he’s got his hair sticking up in every direction. Buck pauses, hands reaching up to try and hold Eddie for a moment, but his eyes are wide and wild, and he looks tormented, bags under his eyes a little more pronounced than usual and a shadow of stubble over his face.
“Buck, I can’t do it. I can’t move on.”
It’s like a sledgehammer being shoved through his chest because, oh. Oh. Eddie… can’t move on from Shannon. And the part of Buck that lived with a tiny crack of useless hope shrivels up and dies because she’s not just Christopher’s mother and Eddie’s wife, of course not, she’s the love of Eddie’s lif-
“I hate the past tense.” Eddie fumes next, his chest heaving, and he’s on a roll, apparently. “I hate every single person who talks to you on calls, and I hate that I missed my chance.”
Buck stands there, lost. He isn’t sure why people at calls are getting thrown in the mix, but he swallows the shattered shards of his heart and reaches out, hands gently landing on Eddie’s tense shoulders and holding firmly, squeezing once he realizes Eddie’s frozen and is staying in one place for the moment.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just stops and stares at Buck like he’s got something big to announce, and Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to think of the right thing to say while nursing his pathetic heart. His pathetic heart, that’s taken beatings over the years while he’s pined for Eddie, but getting confirmation, here and now, that it’ll never be him… well. That hurts worse than lightning.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m so sorry you missed your chance,” Buck says lowly, his voice catching. He knows it’ll crack if he says Shannon’s name, so he avoids it, but it doesn’t matter because Eddie still shakes, his whole body caving slightly, and he looks so miserable Buck’s heart snaps again, just for Eddie.
And Buck’s never considered himself an altruistic person by nature, he’s far too selfish at the best of times, but he knows, deep down, that if he could bring Shannon back for Eddie and Chris, he’d do whatever he could to let them be happy again, at the cost of his own life if he needed to. Anything, really, to stop seeing Eddie like this.
His big, wide, beautiful brown eyes are so wet it makes Buck want to cup his face and promise it’ll all be okay, the light in them is so deep and sweet it makes Eddie look heavenly as he tries to keep it together. Eddie takes a deep shuddering breath in and looks at Buck with heartbreak so real in his eyes.
“Forever? I missed my chance forever?” Eddie asked plaintively, mournfully, and Buck swallowed harshly. He doesn’t know what else to say, so he nods his head. Eddie takes a step back, and Buck’s arms are still outstretched for a moment, still wanting to hold him and keep him afloat, but Eddie feels like he’s miles away.
Eddie tips his head back, his eyes shut tight, and he rubs a rough hand over his face. Buck’s at a total loss about how to help, so he steps a little closer and ducks his head down, closer to Eddie.
“I know this must hurt, to process it all: the past, the what ifs. But I’m here for you, Eddie. That will never change, you know? Anytime you want to talk about it, I’ll be here,” Buck offers, feeling slightly ill at the thought but far worse at the idea of Eddie suffering alone.
Buck thought Eddie might shake off the offer and slowly retreat behind the stoic wall he used to use so much, give Buck a silent nod, and snap away the feelings brewing inside, but he never expected the broken, harsh sob coming from deep inside Eddie. The incredulous look shot at Buck with eyes too hurt to solve.
“I can’t do that to you; I can’t put that on you. It’s not your fault that I – ” The final part is choked off, and Buck inhales sharply.
“Why not? I’m here; you can tell me anything.”
“No, no, Buck, I can’t put all of my, my – my feelings on you when you don’t want them. Me. I just, Buck, you did nothing wrong, and I just… fuck, you mean so much to me, and I want you to know it’s not your fault I’m feeling this way, you don’t… now that I… it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Eddie’s rambling, and it scared Buck as he tried to keep up, but Eddie’s breathing was a little less heavy, looked a little more composed even as his eyes shone. “I’ll be okay; I just need some time. I came here because I needed to know for sure, and now I do, so…” Eddie’s hand runs through his hair ferociously, and Buck can only watch and wait. He reaches a hand out to catch one of Eddie’s, wrapping carefully around his wrist and pulling it gently from his hair as Eddie swallows.
“Eddie,” Buck starts softly, and Eddie looks up with his big eyes, his cheeks flushed, and his chest heaves slightly, breath hitching as Buck takes a step closer. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Immediately, Eddie frowns. “What do you mean, what am I talking about? I’m talking about your crush on me.”
What the fuck?
Buck reboots, tries to recall the last five minutes under this lens, but he’s still reeling and –
“I thought you were talking about Shannon,” Buck says slowly, head tilted to the side, and Eddie gapes, his spine straightening as his head shakes absently. “You were…. Talking about me?” Buck asks dumbly, his heart in his throat, and Eddie stares at him, inhaling sharply.
Eddie takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving Buck’s, and he searches them for something.
“I’ve always been talking about you, Buck. I just needed a minute to catch up,” Eddie pleads so earnestly, so sweetly, and Buck blinks.
“You… wait, sorry, what are you saying exactly, Eddie?”
“That I’m in love with you. Obviously.”
Obviously.
Obviously.
“Obviously? What part of this is obvious?! Edmundo Diaz, I have been in fucking love with you for seven years, you think I’m that oblivious I wouldn’t have noticed if you –”
Well, alright. Buck guesses his rant will have to wait for another time since Eddie’s reaching over and pulling him down into a kiss so devastating it feels like Buck’s been reborn.
Eddie’s hand is gently on his face, on either side cupping his cheeks, and Buck feels so raw, so needed and special in the grasp he goes light-headed. His own hands reach over Eddie’s waist and to his back, reeling him closer as he tilts his head to the side, and then Eddie makes a noise that goes right to Buck’s core, and he swallows it greedily. There are a million things Buck wants to do; he wants to taste Eddie’s tongue and run his hands through Eddie’s hair, squeeze his firm waist and nestle into his strong arms and fuse his soul into Eddie’s, but he settles for kissing the man he loves so thoroughly he isn’t sure where he ends and where Eddie begins.
They pull apart for a moment, gasping air, and Eddie leans in to steal another kiss before he rushes to fill the silence. “I have actively hated every single person you’ve ever dated.”
Kiss.
“I ask you to co-parent Chris with me.”
Kiss.
“I put you in my will.”
Kiss. Swoon.
“I love you, Buck. Obviously.”
Obviously.
***
Buck traces a finger over Eddie’s chest where they’re laid out in Eddie’s bed that evening, laundry folded and Chris gagging whenever they kiss and dinner made together using one of Buck’s new recipes, and Eddie’s heart has never felt fuller. He’s never felt happier.
He picks up Buck’s hand to drop a quick kiss on it before placing it back carefully where he found it. He can feel Buck’s smile on his ribs where he’s laid out over him, and it makes him feel bigger than he’s ever been.
“What are you thinking?” Buck asks him, his eyes bright and a shade of blue so beautiful and deep it makes part of Eddie’s chest settle.
“I’m thinking…” Eddie trails off, taking Buck’s face in his hands and holding the world in his hands. “I’m thinking of sending Chimney a gift basket.”
Buck pauses before groaning and burying his head on Eddie’s stomach. Eddie laughs, the feeling of Buck’s hot breaths on his skin a balm to the scars he has littered there.
“We can’t let him hold this over us, Eddie, he will be insufferable until the day we die,” Buck laments, and Eddie can’t stop the smile growing over his face because he will be insufferable until the day we die.
Future tense.
Eddie trails his hand back to Buck’s hand, muses with his ring finger while Buck rants about how Chimney is the worst brother-in-law and that he has this plot about a crow and, for some reason, Jee only pulls Buck’s hair and not Chimney’s, and Eddie’s heart glows brightly in the dark, and the light could blind him, really.
He listens to Buck and thinks about ring fingers and gift baskets and how much he loves the future tense.