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The first red flag should’ve probably been the wet footprints in the elevator, but Buck’s exhausted after barely catching any sleep on his twenty-four and he pays it no mind at first. However, the issue at hand appears abundantly clear when he steps out of the elevator and sees his neighboring lady Mrs. Stacey mopping a very flooded floor.
“What happened?” demands Buck, seeing as the water is coming into the hallway through his apartment’s door.
“Good morning to you too, Mr. Buckley,” greets the lady. He hasn’t a clue why she still addresses him as such when he’s made it clear that she can call him just Buck. “A water pipe on the floor above broke overnight and the owners weren’t at home, so no one noticed until some of us woke up in a soaked apartment.”
Shit, shit, shit!
“How bad?” he asks, pained.
She shrugs. “Not sure about your apartment, but mine can be saved.”
Bucks nods. He steps into the puddle, thankfully with his work boots on, and braces himself before unlocking his door. When he sees what’s on the other side, he finds himself very grateful for regularly paying his insurance.
“Four weeks, he said. It’s going to take them four weeks of repairs to try and save the loft, and that’s if they can. He said if, Eddie!”
Buck’s just got off the phone with his landlord, stupid Sue, and he’s seething as he paces around Eddie’s kitchen. He’s wearing some comfortable clothes he’d luckily left behind at Eddie’s place on the many nights he used to spend on his couch, as his clothes back at the loft are, well, ruined by the fucking tsunami that struck the place. Eddie’s nursing a glass of water at the kitchen island, looking completely unbothered.
“You can crash on my couch as long as you need to, Buck,” he promises.
Buck groans. “I don’t want to be a—”
“You wouldn’t be a burden,” says Eddie. “Come on, man, your loft is unlivable. I’m your best friend, aren’t I? You need a place to stay after your apartment floods? That’s what I’m here for. Besides,” he takes a small sip. “You can pay me back by helping me chaperone all those dates Christopher is going on.”
Buck grins, finally taking a seat opposite his friend.
“He really is a player, huh?”
“Don’t know who he gets it from,” Eddie grumbles back, clearly unimpressed about this development.
“I mean,” Buck drawls out. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you planning on getting back into the dating scene?” he asks, a little bashful. “Now that you’ve figured out what was causing your previous failures with it?”
Eddie had come out as gay to Buck, then to the team, about two months ago now. While it had been kind of a surprise at first, after some more lingering on it, it made perfect sense to everyone. Buck hasn’t had the time to think about it too much. So what if his best friend is gay? It’s not like that really changes anything… Does it?
“First of all, rude,” says Eddie. “Second… Well, I don’t know. Do you want me to start dating again?”
Buck’s eyebrow furrows. “Why would that be up to me?”
Eddie hesitates, biting on his lip. “I don’t— I mean, the last time I tried dating, you basically told me to ghost the girl without even trying. I thought— I don’t know what I thought,” he adds, wiping the condensation off his glass.
It’s not that Buck is particularly thrilled about getting less of Eddie’s time for himself, but his friend does deserve to find his person. It’s his responsibility to encourage Eddie to go out there and find that happiness for himself. So—
“You should date!” he announces. “Get on Grindr or something.”
Eddie winces. “Grindr’s not really for dating, Buck. I don’t think I’m quite ready for what Grindr has to offer, now or… Ever.”
“Then let’s just get you plain old Tinder,” suggests Buck, already scheming in his head. “Give me your phone and I’ll make an account for you, I’m a pro at this.”
Eddie gazes at him for a moment that seems to stretch out into a minute.
“You want to make a Tinder account for me?” he finally asks.
“It’ll be fun!” promises Buck. “I can share all my tips and tricks from the Buck 1.0 days. But I’m telling you, a single picture of you in your LAFD uniform and you’ll get a hundred guys on their knees for you immediately. I know just the picture you could use, actually.”
He grabs his phone from where he dumped it on the kitchen island and scrolls his Instagram until he finds it and passes the phone over for Eddie to take a look.
Eddie’s frown deepens. “I look absolutely ridiculous.”
“Hey, it’s a good picture, taken by a good photographer, in fact!” complains Buck.
Eddie doesn’t seem very impressed. “If I’m making a Tinder account, I’d rather do it without your input, sorry.”
Buck deflates. “But—”
“You want me to get on a dating app and date other people?” asks Eddie, cutting him off.
Why does he keep asking me that?
“I mean, why not? Don’t you want to explore your options?”
Eddie looks at him meaningfully. With what meaning, Buck’s not sure.
“Okay,” he says. “I guess I’ll start dating then.”
“Yeah, you should,” adds Buck.
Eddie lets out a sigh. “I should then, shouldn’t I?”
Buck’s not really following, but he nods anyway.
The first time it happens, Buck and Eddie have been lounging on the couch in front of a Bachelor binge for hours. Ever since that call at the Bachelor mansion, they’ve grown a tiny bit addicted to the show. Eddie swears it has nothing to do with the fact that Jesse Palmer openly flirted with him on the scene. Buck? Buck just enjoys the dramatics of it all.
“It’s getting late,” says Eddie, checking his phone as the episode credits roll. “I should probably start getting dressed.”
Buck frowns. Huh? They were supposed to binge the show until their eventual sugar crash from all the soda and snacks kicks in.
“You going somewhere?” he asks.
“Yep,” says Eddie. “I’ve got a date with Colin from Tinder.”
Buck’s mouth hangs open. A what now?
“A date,” he repeats. “You’ve got a date?”
“Yep,” Eddie says again, just as noncommittally. “Check on Chris when you can?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” says Buck, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, once again — you’re going on a date and you’re just telling me now?”
Eddie raises a brow. “I thought you wanted me to date.”
“Yeah but—” Buck struggles. “I didn’t think you’d, like, start already. And— What about the show?” He motions to the TV.
“I’m pretty sure the show will still be up after my date,” says Eddie, smirking.
Buck just kind of stares at him, confused at this development. Something about the thought of Eddie choosing Colin from Tinder over a night in with Buck, his very best friend in the world, makes his stomach pool with antsiness.
“Unless you want me to cancel the date?” asks Eddie suddenly.
And Buck’s automatic response to that is an embarrassing please do. Thankfully, he doesn’t voice it aloud.
“Of course not,” he says instead. “Go get ready. I’ll hang out with Chris, if he’s up for it.”
“Okay,” drawls out Eddie, tossing his blanket aside and getting up. “Keep it cool, man.”
Keep it— What is happening?
Buck watches as Eddie disappears out of his sight, shutting the door of his bedroom behind him to dress up for the stupid Colin dude. What did Colin from Tinder even do to deserve Eddie dressing up for him? Buck’s seen his best friend’s outfits for his dates in the past, back when Christopher was still little and he needed a constant watching over. Eddie cleans up, uh, nicely. Buck’s not quite sure a Tinder date deserves his time and efforts.
He ends up glueing his gaze to the television screen, paused on the credits, and he isn’t sure how long he sits there, just thinking and thinking, but then Eddie emerges from his bedroom and—
His hair is slid back with gel, but not enough gel to be noticed, not enough to make his hair sticky and rough, the right amount of gel to pass for a TV show character whose hair is always done perfectly, seemingly without effort. He’s wearing a pair of tight jeans and a navy Henley that atrociously reminds Buck of seeing him in uniform, and, well, Eddie looks good in a uniform. Sue him if he’s kind of ogling him.
“I’ll see you then, I guess,” says Eddie, grabbing his wallet and keys.
“Have fun,” answers Buck, his voice coming out kind of croaky.
Eddie pauses in the doorway to the hallway, glancing back at Buck.
“You’ll be fine on your own?”
Buck forces a smile. “Me and Chris will have a lot of fun.”
Eddie nods and, just like that, heads out of the door. Fucking outrageous, if you ask Buck.
If he ends up watching a few episodes without Eddie, well, the man deserves the betrayal.
To Buck’s secret pleasure, Colin from Tinder turns out to be a total dud. He’s an accountant and the most fun thing he does in his spare time is math. It reminds Eddie of Ana all over again and they don’t even part as friends. Suck that, Colin from Tinder!
So, naturally, Buck thinks his days off while his loft is still under construction will be spent hanging out with Eddie. And they do go like that, for a few days. But then they decide to grab some lunch at Nicole’s diner.
Buck and Eddie frequent Nicole’s when they’re too lazy to cook after a twenty-four. It’s this lovely place a few blocks away from the station, especially when there are no Santa Anas trying to make their napkins fly away in the outside sitting area. Nicole’s serve arguably the best brunch on this side of Los Angeles, and Buck happily devours their chicken burger.
At this point, they have made acquaintances with every waiter, so it’s a bit of a surprise when a tall, blond man who seems to be somewhat their age approaches their table — they’ve never seen him before. His deeply blue eyes stand out to Buck, when he kind of gapes between Buck and Eddie, but Eddie particularly, his notepad in hand.
“Uh, what can I get you guys?” he asks. Buck notes that his name tag says Oliver. What a stupid name.
Eddie orders their usual, glancing at the menu over his shades, and the waiter notes it down. It’s nothing unusual. Until—
“We’re out of Pepsi, handsome,” says Oliver distractedly. Once he realizes his mistake, his eyes go comically wide. “Shit! I mean, shoot. I didn’t mean to— Would you be okay with coke, uh, sir?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh, yeah, coke’s fine.”
“Spectacular,” says Oliver. “We’ll make that one a priority!”
With that, he sprints away to the kitchen, nearly toppling over his own feet.
“That was—” starts Buck, recovering.
“—endearing,” says Eddie.
“—embarrassing,” finishes Buck. “Wait, what?”
“Maybe I should slip him my number on the bill,” muses Eddie.
Excuse me?!
“You like him?” asks Buck, bewildered.
Eddie shrugs. “He’s pretty attractive. Kind of my type.”
What the fuck?!
“Uh, what is your type, then?” asks Buck, wildly curious.
Eddie gazes at him for a moment, thinking.
“Appearance wise? Or personality?” he finally asks.
“Both, I guess,” answers Buck, toying with the napkin stand.
“Hm,” hums Eddie. “Someone strong. You know, someone who can withstand all the bullshit life throws their way but still remain soft and kind afterward. Definitely someone who likes kids. And— I can’t say I’m not into some muscles.”
Buck pales. Oliver had a pretty nice set of those, for a waiter.
“So, you’re gonna ask him out?” he asks, his voice shivering a little.
Eddie shrugs. “Maybe.”
And Buck? Buck doesn’t like that. He kind of hates it, in fact, this new attitude Eddie has about people he dates. It’s kind of shallow, isn’t it, to want to date a guy because of some muscles? Besides, they’re not even that big. Buck has bigger. And Buck’s also a firefighter, which is undoubtedly a more admirable position than a waiter!
It occurs to him in that moment that he’s truly not into Eddie dating guys. In fact, he kind of feels weird about it. Why is Eddie out there wanting to get into the dating pool, when he could spend his precious time off work in other ways? Buck didn’t feel this way when Eddie was still dating women, though, so… What does it mean, really, that he has an issue with his best friend’s choices now?
He’s not homophobic, obviously. He thinks queer people are pretty cool, actually. Kind of wonders sometimes, what it would be like to go to a pride parade and hold a man’s hand. But, you know, it’s all fleeting thoughts. Buck’s not actually into men. He’s never considered it, anyway. Never had the opportunity to explore it, past some jokes, like when that guy in the Texas wildfires, TK Strand, assumed Buck had asked him out.
Buck feels weird for the remainder of their lunch, with Oliver coming and going to their table to serve them. And he definitely doesn’t enjoy the sight of Eddie indescreetly scribbling down his number on the bill.
Oliver doesn’t work out either. Apparently, he’d totally freaked out when Eddie mentioned Christopher. Screw him for not even considering being privy to knowing the best goddamn kid in the world. Or — and Buck deflates at that — teenager, he supposes.
Life goes on an usual. Buck’s no longer worried about being a closet homophobe, because there’s no reason for him to be. Eddie’s just a guy who happens to be gay. Absolutely no issue with that. Buck simply prefers that he doesn’t go out there and spend time with other guys because he loves having his best friend to himself. Also no issue with that.
But, apparently, Eddie has this new gay glow about him, because they keep being thrown into these situations where a guy is explicitly throwing his advances at Eddie, and Eddie— Well, he’s reeling from all the attention.
One of those times happens on the scene of a carwreck, where everyone gets away mostly unscathed, but this dude Jose, some kind of bodylifter it seems, insists that Eddie takes another look at the bruise forming across his ribs from the seatbelt punching into him during the crash.
“I think you’re okay, but if you experience any nausea or breathlessness, you should head to the ER to check for internal bleeds,” advises Eddie, sliding down Jose’s shirt to hide his tan skin.
“Can’t you take me?” Jose asks, smirking at him.
“Uh, are you experiencing nausea or breathlessness now?” asks Eddie.
“Kind of breathless at the sight of you,” he answers, quirking an eyebrow. Eddie pales.
“I don’t really think that’s a valid symptom,” Buck mutters under his breath, but neither of them pay him any mind.
“Well, that’s not exactly valid grounds for taking you to the—” starts Eddie, but is quickly interrupted.
“You wanna go grab a drink after your shift’s over?”
Eddie blinks. “What?”
“And maybe keep the uniform on?” adds Jose, batting his eyelashes at him.
“I—”
“Eddie, we should start clearing the scene,” says Buck, interrupting whatever pathetic excuse his friend was about to give to the guy. Seriously, flirting with a working firefighter? Where are this Jose’s manners?
“Just— Give me a minute,” grumbles back Eddie. He turns his attention back to Jose. “What bar are you thinking?”
What. The. Fuck.
Jose looks very pleased at that. “You name the place. Here’s my business card,” he says, unpocketing a wallet of cards and passing one to Eddie. “I’m a gym trainer.”
Of course he fucking is.
“I’ll text you after my shift,” promises Eddie, pocketing the card and giving him a little wink. A wink?! Who is this guy and what did he do to Eddie?
Thankfully, Eddie joins Buck in the job of clearing the scene after that, even if he barely pays attention to the way Buck is seething as they arrange for one of the wrecked cars to go away with the roadside assistance. Buck kind of wishes they would take him away with the car, so that he doesn’t have to see the pleased grin on Eddie’s face.
Later that night, Buck heads back to Eddie’s house alone, once again being assigned the duty of half-watching Christopher as Eddie grabs a drink with some pitiful guy whose only interest in conversation is probably the fucking steroids he takes for his arms to be that huge.
Whatever. Buck plays video games with Christopher and doesn’t give a damn.
Turns out, Jose isn’t as bad as Colin and Oliver. Turns out, Jose can actually carry a conversation and make Eddie laugh and probably make his stomach squirm with butterflies and— Buck finds himself at a sports bar a week later, his eyes glued to the TV screen of the Super Bowl, and while he hasn’t actually cared about football since he played in high school, it’s better than looking at Eddie and Jose shamelessly eyefucking each other beside him.
Jose is annoying. It’s annoying that he keeps swatting Eddie’s hand in response to a teasing joke. It’s annoying that he keeps his shoulder flushed against Eddie’s. It’s annoying that he keeps buying Eddie drinks that he has no interest in — Eddie’s a beer kind of guy, but Jose insists on getting him sugary cocktails. It’s annoying that he keeps gazing at Eddie like he’s trying to undress him with his eyes. Annoying!
When Eddie had proposed to him that they go watch the Super Bowl at a bar, Buck had no idea that those plans included Jose. If he’d known, he’d have never come. Especially when there’s a commercial break and—
“I’ll be right back. These cocktails are getting to me,” says Jose, getting up from the bar stool. Except, when Buck hopes he just leaves already, Jose leans into Eddie and smacks a disturbingly loud kiss on his cheek before his departure.
And Buck? Buck nearly gags.
What the hell is wrong with him? Buck’s never had an issue with a guy kissing another. Why is it that now, when he’s supposed to be supportive of his best friend’s coming out, he is disgusted at the thought of Eddie kissing a guy? Is he actually homophobic?
“You good?” asks Eddie, glancing over at him. Buck tries to force a neutral expression.
“Yeah,” he answers. “So, you like Jose?” He tries to make it not sound like an accusation, but clearly fails, based on Eddie frowning.
“What? You think he’s not a good guy?”
Not for you, Buck’s brain helpfully supplies.
“I don’t know,” he says instead. “I mean, are you really into all that? He’s kind of over the top.”
“Over the top?”
“With his gym stuff,” clarifies Buck.
Eddie tilts his head in confusion. “He hasn’t mentioned gym stuff once tonight.”
“He implies it.”
Eddie gives him a once over. “What’s your problem, Buck? Do you not like him?”
Buck hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I don’t not like him. He just— I know you said your type is muscles, but I didn’t expect you to actually mean it.”
Eddie throws his head back laughing. “I don’t like him for his muscles.”
“So, why?”
He shrugs. “I’m having fun with him. That’s what dating’s all about, right? To have fun.”
And somehow, that’s even worse. Eddie actually likes the guy for his personality. Why does that thought make Buck’s stomach twist with— Something?
“You met him on a call,” is Buck’s pathetic reasoning. “You told me it’s not a good idea to date people you meet on calls.”
“I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I?” challenges Eddie.
Buck stares down at his pint of beer, most of its foam having sunk into the drink.
“I guess.”
Jose returns quickly after and makes a scene out of kissing Eddie’s cheek again. Buck kind of wants to punch him in the face.
One thing is Eddie going out with Jose to bars at every opportunity he gets. A whole nother is Jose actually showing up at the fire station with—
“Thought I’d get you a coffee,” he says, passing a takeaway cup to Eddie up at the loft. “Black with two sugars.”
Buck scoffs from where he’s lounging on the couch. Obviously, that’s not Eddie’s go-to coffee. Eddie likes his coffee disgustingly sweet, with creamer and caramel syrup, and he does not ever take his coffee black.
But Eddie grins at Jose, taking the cup from him. “Thanks. You still on for later?”
“You bet,” says Jose, leaning in and— Kissing Eddie, right there and then, in front of the entire one-eighteen. On the lips!
Hen, beside him on the couch, coos. Buck seriously doesn’t get it. What an atrocious display of public affection. He would never kiss another person at their workplace.
For some reason, Jose sticks around, making conversation with the one-eighteen like he belongs here. Like he’s important enough to already be included in Eddie’s work family after a couple of flimsy dates. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
To relieve himself of Jose’s irritating presence, Buck heads down to the gym and beats the crap out of the punching bag, pretending it’s the face of a certain gym trainer. It kind of helps.
It all comes down to one Friday night, Buck getting ready to fall asleep on Eddie’s couch, when the door to the house opens and in walks the man himself, his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder, a tentative look on his face. Just like that, he crashes down on the couch beside Buck, looking down at his feet.
“Did something go wrong?” asks Buck. Eddie had gone to yet another date with Jose after shift, not to a bar, but an actual restaurant for the first time. A real date. A date for which Eddie brought out his slacks.
“Hm,” is all Eddie can muster. Hello? Buck is dying over here.
“What happened?” he prods further.
“Nothing bad,” says Eddie. “Jose just asked me if I wanted to be his boyfriend.”
Buck’s heart sinks in his chest.
“And what did you say?”
“Nothing,” answers Eddie. “I mean, I told him I’d think about it.”
Thank God for that.
“Do you want to be his boyfriend?” asks Buck, his voice thready.
Eddie snaps his head to fully look at Buck. “Should I?”
And once again, Eddie is asking Buck for input he feels like he shouldn’t be asked for.
“You like him enough,” he grumbles out. “You should probably go for it.”
Eddie heaves out a long, desperate sigh, turning away from Buck.
“What?” he asks.
“I just—” Eddie struggles. “I just don’t get you sometimes.”
Buck’s forehead lines. “What do you mean?”
Eddie’s toying with his fingers, looking anywhere but at his best friend.
“I thought—” he starts, letting out another sigh. “I thought you wanted more from me, Buck. I thought you— I guess I was wrong. Too hopeful? Kind of delusional? But the signs were there, all over the place for years, and I thought— Well, silly me for imaging something that apparently wasn’t there.”
Buck has no idea what Eddie’s talking about. Does he think Buck thinks he’s rushing into something with Jose? Does he think Buck expected something more serious from him?
“I just want you to be happy,” is what he settles for. Because that’s it, isn’t it? Even if Buck has to be the best man at Eddie and Jose’s wedding, it doesn’t matter how sickeningly he feels about it. If Eddie’s happy, Buck’s happy.
“Yeah,” breathes out Eddie. “But I think true happiness for me only lies with one person.”
Buck wants to punch his pillow and scream. It kind of sounds like Eddie’s already falling in love with the guy. Jose’s the one for him. Eddie could be leaving Buck behind for Jose. How fucking heartbreaking is that.
But he sounds so smitten. Buck has to be supportive of him.
“You should tell him yes, then,” he says, even though his heart cracks behind his ribs. “Be his boyfriend, Eddie. This might be your chance at real love.”
Eddie turns his head away to completely shut Buck off, but he doesn’t miss the second in which he sees him wince. “Okay, I’ll head to bed,” he says, getting up from the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” manages Buck, watching Eddie disappear into his bedroom.
And that’s that.
Buck can’t fall asleep. His mind is hyperfocused on images of Eddie and Jose. Eddie and Jose, kissing in front of a fountain on a holiday, Christopher taking the picture. Eddie on one knee as he proposes to Jose. Eddie and Jose exchanging rings at their wedding. Eddie and Jose adding another kid to their family. Eddie and Jose—
At six in the morning, he finally rises from the couch, having had enough of tossing and turning, never getting comfortable enough to be lulled to sleep. He drinks a glass of water and changes out of his pajamas, and just sits at Eddie’s kitchen island for about an hour, staring at the cracks and burns on the surface from years of kitchen mishaps, most of which Buck had been present for. He sits and stares and thinks.
He needs to get over this somehow, whatever it is that is keeping him from being happy for Eddie. He needs to speak about this to someone, someone who wouldn’t judge, someone who would eagerly listen and understand and—
At seven thirty in the morning on their day off, Buck is knocking on the door of Hen’s house.
The door opens to a confused, rumpled looking Hen. She looks like she’s about to say something along the lines of why the hell are you bothering me at seven thirty in the morning, but her mouth snaps shut when she takes in the miserable sight of him.
“Hen, I think there’s something deeply wrong with me,” is his opener.
Her eyes grow concerned at once.
“Oh? Do you have an upset stomach from the sushi we had last night? I swear it tasted odd.”
“No, that’s not—” Buck struggles. But then, wait… “Okay, actually, yeah, my stomach is upset but it’s upset at the thought of Eddie dating guys. Got any medicine for that?”
There’s a long pause, during which Hen just stares at him as though she’s never seen him before.
“Are you coming out as homophobic right now?”
Buck winces. “See, I kind of feared you might say that. I think I could be?”
Although it’s probably the opposite of what a lesbian in a loving marriage with another woman should be doing, Hen opens the door wider to invite him in. “I gotta hear this.”
So, they settle at the same table they once drank an outrageous amount of tequila shots at, and Buck is so sleep deprived, so confused, so disarranged, that he can still feel the drunkenness from that day in his fuzzy mind.
“So?” prods Hen, careful eyes on him.
Buck inhales deeply.
“I guess it kind of started when I moved in with Eddie?” is how he begins the story. “I suggested that Eddie started dating, you know, to explore this new world of possibilities, and he wasn’t very eager about it. But then he did start dating. He went on a date with this guy from Tinder, then this waiter from this diner we love, and then—” Buck pauses to gather his strength. “Fucking Jose. And every single time these dates would be brought up, every time Eddie would gush about them, I’d feel completely disgusted. I’d be imagining these scenarios of Eddie hooking up with them, and my stomach would twist in disgust. I’d think about Eddie replacing the time he spends with me with his dates, and I’d feel like throwing up.
“My entire body buzzes with it,” he carries on. “I think about a future where Eddie is dating some other guy, maybe even being married to one, and in this future, I’m just the left behind best friend who never really meant anything, who wasn’t good enough, who couldn’t make Eddie happy enough and— It hurts so much, Hen. There’s a deep, deep bruise in my heart,” he says, knocking on his own chest. “And then, last night, Eddie told me that Jose asked him to be his boyfriend and I wanted so badly to tell him to not agree with it, to stop dating him, to—”
There is a strange look of something dawning over Hen on her face.
“But instead, I told him to go for it,” he reveals. “I told him to be Jose’s boyfriend when every particle of me hates the idea of it. I must be homophobic, right?”
Hen does something she’s never done before. She reaches over the table to grab Buck’s hand in his.
“I don’t think you’re homophobic, Buck.”
Buck blinks once, twice, thrice.
“Really?”
Hen shakes his head.
“I think you might be quite the opposite.”
Huh?
“What’s the opposite of homophobic? Homoloving?”
Hen looks like she’s holding back a wince. She rubs Buck’s hand lovingly as she carries on, “I think the reason you might not like the idea of Eddie dating men is because you want to be the man Eddie is dating.”
The dots are not connecting in his head.
“Huh?” he voices aloud this time.
“Buck,” she presses. “It sounds like you have feelings for Eddie.”
“Feelings…?”
It suddenly hits him like that lightning strike did. Memories flood his brain, little moments over the years that felt little at the time, but looking back, feel like they meant everything. Stolen glances and soft confessions and quiet mornings and screeching names and emergencies and movie nights and tucking a little kid to bed and sharing beers and—
“Oh my God. Fuck. Hen. FUCK!”
“I didn’t see this coming,” he hears her say, but her voice comes out kind of from a distance to him, kind of muted from the buzz of his mind. “How did I not see this coming?”
“Hen, I think I’m—”
“Yeah, you are,” she says. “You are so in love with Eddie that it was too big to be seen, honestly. But it makes so much sense now. Wow.”
“What do I do? What do I do?!”
“Tell him, I guess,” she says. At once, Buck rushes up from his seat. “Woah, not immediately! You gotta sit with this for a moment, Buck.”
Buck doesn’t want to wait, sit with it for any second longer. What if Eddie is waking up now, about to ask Jose to spend the rest of his life with him because Buck had been so stupid that he hadn’t seen what Eddie had been implying between the lines all along? He thinks about Eddie prodding him all over and over again, asking if he should really go for all those dates, all these men that aren’t Buck and— How could he be so blind to what it all implied? I think true happiness for me only lies with one person. What if Eddie had meant him?
“I can’t wait,” he tells Hen. “Not about this. Not when I’ve nearly lost my chance for the last time.”
So, without much preamble, leaving Hen where she’s sitting, he barges out of the door.
When Buck stumbles into Eddie’s house half an hour later, he is met with the smell of nearly burning toast and eggs. Eddie’s awake. Eddie’s making breakfast. Eddie could’ve already called up Jose and told him that he wants to be his boyfriend. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He heads for the kitchen, oblivious to all the fanfare of breakfast, and simply grabs Eddie’s elbow to drag him over to the couch. Eddie kind of shrieks, but Buck doesn’t have the mind to tell him any excuse. He sits him down and looks at him, probably with fire in his eyes.
“I don’t like that you’re dating men.”
His entire body is buzzing with anticipation to get on with it already, but somehow, that’s his opener.
“Uh,” says Eddie, his eyebrow quirking up. “Okay? That’s not going to stop me from doing it, but thanks for your input, Buck.”
“I mean, Eddie,” presses Buck. “Why are you dating men?”
“Because I’m gay?”
Buck lets out a laugh that sounds depressing, honestly.
“Why are you dating other men and not me?”
Eddie blinks. “Wait, what?”
Buck scoots over, several inches closer to where Eddie sits, completely perplexed.
“Please stop dating other men, when I’m right here!”
Eddie stares at him. And stares. And stares some more.
“Is this your way of asking me out?” he finally lets escape through his lips, quirking up into a wide grin that Buck absolutely adores. “Because, from your reputation, I assumed you’d be a lot better than this.”
Buck whines. “Sue me if it’s a bit hard to tell the guy I have apparently been in love with for years that I want to go out with him!”
Eddie’s mouth falls open. “Hold on, in love?”
“Well, yes!”
“Forgive me for my confusion, but didn’t you, last night, tell me to go for it with Jose?”
“Fuck Jose!” Buck spits out. “Be my boyfriend, Eddie!”
Eddie doesn’t show any sign of acknowledgment to that for a moment that seems to last an eternity. Perhaps Buck has got it all wrong? Perhaps Eddie hadn’t been implying that he’d much rather date Buck than Colin and Oliver and fucking Jose?
“Okay,” he says then.
Buck’s heart skips a beat.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, sure, Buck,” he says, oddly steadily. “You free tomorrow night?”
“What?”
“Do you want to go out with me tomorrow night?” he spells out for him more slowly, rolling his eyes. “On a date?”
“I— Yes?”
“Are you asking or answering?”
Buck tries to get his scrambled mind to come up with a real, coherent sentence.
“Yes, I want to go out with you tomorrow night. Just name the place.”
Eddie doesn’t even hesitate.
“My house? Dinner and movie and— Making out on the couch, perhaps?”
“Sounds fucking spectacular,” breathes out Buck. “Except—”
“Yes?”
Buck musters an expression as coy as possible. He’s still got some game in him.
“Can we schedule that last part to right now?”
And Eddie grins at him. A full, toothy grin. Like a man completely smitten. And maybe he is? After all—
Buck doesn’t have to question it for much longer, because the next moment, Eddie is pressing him into the couch, one hand on his waist and the other grabbing his face, and he’s kissing him.
Eddie is kissing him! And it should probably feel a bit unusual, kissing a man for the first time, but he’s also kissing his best friend, the person he feels most at ease with, the person he’s put his life on the line for on numerous occasions, the person with who he feels completely, utterly, and unashamedly himself with. And for those reasons alone, his lips against Eddie’s just fit like two opposite ends of a magnet. A magnet that once resisted, once was flipped the wrong way, and now found a way to turn itself around to finally knock together with the other piece.
They kiss and they kiss and they kiss until—
“Dad, I smell something burning!” calls out Christopher’s voice.
Reluctantly, Eddie separates his mouth from Buck’s.
“Breakfast is probably burnt,” he announces.
“I’ll make a new one,” promises Buck. “Eddie,” he presses. “I’ll make you breakfast every single morning for as long as I am alive.”
“Kind of sounds like you’re not moving back to your loft,” says Eddie, beaming.
“Fuck the loft,” answers Buck. “I want to stay with you forever, I think.”
Eddie gets himself up from the couch, but lingers before heading to the kitchen.
“I like the sound of that,” he says, winking at him. Fucking winking. Buck is going to devour this man. “Wanna help me save the day?”
Without hesitation, Buck nods and follows after him.