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They don’t talk about it.
The first time it happens, Buck is not that drunk.
Really, he’s not. He can hold his alcohol very well, courtesy of spending too many years partying all night long. It still feels good right now, though, pleasant even, the feeling of being slightly dizzy, everything looser.
Eddie, on the other hand…
He’s not wasted, but he’s still fairly drunk, his cheeks rosy from the many, many sparkling drinks he had. It’s ridiculous, how pretty he looks here. There’s not even many lights, just the flashing ones, and yet, in the dark, he still seems to be coming straight from a runaway, or a fairytale.
Ha, straight.
Buck just made himself sad for no reason, now. You see, if Eddie weren’t, then maybe Buck could consider—
He shakes his head, focusing on his best friend. “I think you’re exaggerating a little bit, bud,” he says, patting Eddie’s hand.
“You don’t get it, Buck,” Eddie groans, a bit dramatically, “They hate me.”
Buck blinks, “No, no, I don’t think your elderly neighbor and her cat hate you,” he assures quickly, trying to reason with him. To be fair, he doesn’t think anyone could ever hate Eddie. He’s the best person in the world. Everyone loves him. Buck does. He’s the best, Eddie. So fun and pretty and—
Oh. There’s something very similar to a pout on Eddie’s face, which is too endearing. “They glare at me, together,” he says, with a sad tone in his voice.
“Eddie,” he starts, gently, “There’s not a single human being that could glare at you, at your face. It’s— it’s so nice to look at. People swoon at it,” Buck assures, then, he widens his eyes, realizing how that must have sounded.
He doesn’t take it back, though.
Somehow, Eddie’s cheeks flush brighter. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” he huffs, sipping on his drink.
“I’m your best friend,” Buck corrects, pointedly, because that’s very important to highlight. It’s his birthright. He was born for this. “But also, I have eyes.”
“Okay,” Eddie rolls his eyes, he seems to try and push Buck lightly, but loses balance —even though they’re sitting down —somehow dropping half his weight into him. “’M okay,” he adds in a mumbled voice coming from Buck’s neck.
Cool. Cool, cool. He doesn’t move an inch. Buck stopped breathing about thirty seconds ago.
“You smell drunk,” Eddie notes, because he had just sniffed him, apparently. Jesus Christ.
Buck is still not breathing, “W-well, I—”
“It’s not bad drunk,” Eddie clarifies quickly, whatever that means.
“I’m not drunk,” he manages in a high-pitched voice. Then, carefully puts an arm around Eddie, loose enough, letting out a shaky breath.
Eddie makes a little pleased sound on his throat, “Me either,” he mumbles, still making no move to leave that spot.
That spot being Buck’s neck, just to be clear.
Oh, God.
What is happening right now?
Eddie has been cloned, surely.
You see, Eddie is fairly affectionate with Buck, like, all the time. He’s the best, really, always seems to keep in mind the fact that Buck absorbs physical touch like a sponge, but this seems different somehow— not because of the alcohol, everyone knows how touchy and clingy, for lack of better words, Eddie can get with only half a glass of it, Buck loves it. Except it’s not that. It’s more… Intimate. Besides, they’re in the middle of a crowded bar.
“Did you finish your beer?” his cloned-best friend asks, backing up a little, Buck nearly cries in despair at the loss. Eddie is still close, though.
So close to Buck’s face. From here, Buck can perfectly see the little scar on his lip, the one he wants to trace with his fingers sometimes. Or maybe with his mouth, or tongue, maybe—
Okay. It’s just out of pure curiosity, of course. He only wants to know how it feels… For research purposes and stuff like that.
“Uh, I,” he tries, feeling the heat creeping up to his cheeks, “What?” he says dumbly, even though he heard Eddie perfectly.
“Did you finish your beer?” Eddie asks again, not unkindly, a pleased grin on his face.
“Mhm,” Buck nods, a little aggressively, “Yep. I did that. Beer? Finished,” he confirms, shaking the empty bottle. Before Eddie can even try to say anything back, he adds, “There’s no beer left. It’s gone. Poof.”
Immediately, Buck winces at himself. He doesn’t know what the fuck is he saying. He might blame it on the alcohol if anyone asks, but it’s clearly not that, let’s be real…
“Wanna have a taste?” Eddie says, blinking up at him with his big eyes.
Buck chokes on air, freezes, “W-what?”
Eddie raises an eyebrow, “From my drink,” he says, inviting, “Wanna try it?”
Oh. Oh!
“Of course,” Buck says, shaking his head. He had clearly known that Eddie meant that.“Your drink,” he adds, huffing.
“…Yes,” Eddie confirms, simply grabbing it and offering it to Buck.
Buck shrugs, taking a sip. He blinks as his throat slightly burns, “It’s—it’s pretty strong,” he says, almost coughing.
Eddie beams at him, “Yeah, I like it,” he says, “Remember the last time we went out for drinks?”
“You mean Chim’s bachelor party?” Buck asks, remembering it fondly, then, frowns, “Or—or that other time shortly before that, at Paddy’s, when every guy on the bar kept sending you drinks?”
Buck had hated that night. Assholes.
Eddie rolls his eyes, “I was actually talking about Chim’s bachelor party,” he clarifies. “But… It wasn’t every guy, that night at Paddy’s. There were, like, two or three guys who did it… To be friendly.”
“That’s—that’s not being friendly, Eddie,” Buck complains loudly. “They were trying to… Get your attention,” he hisses, remembering how annoyed it made him, while Eddie had just smiled and talked about how nice it was to get free drinks. It wasn’t nice. “You don’t see me buying drinks for strangers, do you?”
Eddie seems to consider it, “No,” he agrees, “But you buy me drinks,” he adds, a teasing tone on his voice, and something else that Buck decides he just imagined, in favor of his own sanity.
“I mean, yeah,” he concedes, smiling at the reason. “Because you’re my best friend.”
Eddie smirks at him, seeming amused, “Not to get my attention?” he asks.
“No,” Buck says, then, he gets possessed, apparently, and adds, “I don’t need to buy it.”
I already have it, it’s very much implied. Buck is not that possessed, though. Maybe the drinks have catched up to him…
Eddie shrugs, “Fair enough,” he agrees easily, and Buck would’ve spit his beer if he had any left. “I want more alcohol,” he decides after a beat.
“Okay, lead the way,” Buck says, nodding. He realizes that he could use some more, too.
Eddie shakes his head. “You lead the way.”
“Fine, come on,” he gets up from the booth, gesturing at Eddie to do the same. They reach the bar quickly enough, there are a few empty seats, and Buck immediately pulls one so Eddie can sit on it.
“Thanks,” Eddie says, smiling, while Buck grabs the seat next to him, smiling back at him, probably like an idiot.
Buck blinks a few times. He’s just too happy to have him close. Eddie is the best, and Buck wants to spend the rest of his life next to him. Something flashes in his mind suddenly, the greatest idea ever: he should marry Eddie. They should do that as soon as possible.
As best friends, naturally. Buck is pretty sure platonic marriages exist, he’ll have to look into it. It would be nice, really nice.
He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about it, he’s not wasted—the world is tilting slightly, and he has to adjust his vision to focus, sure, but he’s not. Plus, it sounds great.
Husband. Eddie.
Eddie. Husband.
Maybe he’s a little drunk, after all.
Soon enough, the bartender approaches them. “Hi, what are you guys having?” she asks, grinning.
Husband. Husband. Husband. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.
“Hey! I’ll have two beers,” Buck tells her, then, he adds almost involuntarily, “And whatever my husband wants,” gesturing at Eddie.
It takes him half a second to realize what he said. He didn’t meant to— Oh, fuck. He glances at Eddie in panic, but…
Eddie doesn’t even blink, he doesn’t call him out on his lie, either, just leans into him to say over the music, “One margarita, please.”
“Coming right up,” she says, her eyes glistening, she seems to hesitate, “I don’t know if this sounds weird, but you two are so cute! How long have you been together?”
Okay. Okay, okay, okay. The world keeps tilting.
“Uh, thank you, we’ve been together for, um, nine years,” Buck lies, immediately.
Eddie nods, “Ten this November,” he adds, smiling. Jesus. Buck didn’t think he’d join him. He wonders what the hell they are doing.
“Oh my God, that’s a lot.”
“I mean, it’s easy with him… We have a kid, too,” Eddie keeps going animatedly, talking loudly over the music. Buck stops breathing for a second.
It’s one thing to think of Chris as his, as theirs. Of course he does. But having Eddie saying it so confidently makes him warm all over. He presses his shoulder to Eddie’s in a silent thank you, even though they’re lying.
Eddie presses back.
“Really? I love that!” the bartender says, excitedly, and Buck realizes she’s completely ignoring the line of people waiting. “Me and my girlfriend are thinking about fostering.”
“That’s so nice!” both Buck and Eddie say in unison, then glance at each other, bursting into a fit of giggles.
“We’re also talking about expanding our family,” Buck tells her once he’s composed enough, smiling wide, deciding that he might as well keep adding lies. “Maybe another kid.”
It would be nice…
“I think you should go for it,” she says, nodding. “You guys seem like you are such fun parents.”
“Well… We try,” Eddie shrugs, sounding shy. “You know, our kid is fifteen already.”
Someone clears their throat, “Um, excuse me, can I—”
“Please wait in line,” the bartender tells the person, smiling a little threateningly, she turns to Buck and Eddie again, beaming, “Oh, wow! Isn’t it scary, raising a teenager?”
“Yeah, it is,” they say in unison again. But Chris is amazing, so…
They both stay there for a while, talking animatedly to her. She introduces herself as Kayla at some point, and Buck gets her number to send her the Wilson’s fostering agency information.
Later, they Uber back to Eddie’s house, and are way, way past drunk, Buck can admit it now.
None of them mentions what happened earlier. Eddie doesn’t ask why he said it in the first place, and Buck doesn’t explain himself, doesn’t ask why Eddie didn’t deny it, or why he followed his lead.
Except, Buck dreams about it.
Next time, no one can blame it on the alcohol, because they are both fully sober. It’s Eddie’s fault, now— let’s clarify that.
As Christopher’s school year starts, the PTA meetings start, too.
Buck has been going to them for a long time, actually. He doesn’t know why, barely even remembers how it started… Huh, it was a few months after knowing him, he thinks it probably involved Eddie complaining about some parents, about the endless meetings, and asking Buck to please tag along, you’ll thrive there, he had said, and then added, I wouldn’t mind the company, either. He would’ve offered himself first, but, you know, insecurities about his place in the Díaz boys’ lives, and all that.
Still, Buck said yes, getting ridiculously excited at the prospect of being there in the middle of the parents, guardians and teachers, as if he belonged.
It was funny, the fact that Eddie pretended he didn’t like these PTA meetings. Buck immediately realized it, that first time he joined him, that Eddie absolutely loved being involved. He was always the first one to give opinions, and plan activities, and think about the kids’ well-being. Eddie had even created the parents’ group chat.
Sometimes, it made Buck think that maybe it wasn’t about annoying parents and endless conferences, the inviting Buck of it all. Maybe Eddie just wanted him close.
Dreaming costs nothing, right?
The point is, they’re in the school’s parking lot, exiting Eddie’s truck, and it’s been a few days since that night.
Things have been normal. Buck still doesn’t have a house, Eddie is still being an angel and letting him stay at his own, which involves a lot of bed-sharing, and Chris is still being the best kid —teenager— in the whole world.
No one mentions the husband thing— although, now sober, Buck thinks it would be nice if it was true, the same way one thinks it would be nice to get a million dollars, knowing how unlikely it is to happen. This was just a ridiculous joke made by two drunk friends. Really.
And then…
“Hey! Eddie, Buck!” someone calls from behind them, and they turn around. Buck realizes it is Stan, Emmanuel’s father.
Oh. Stan, Emmanuel’s father… Who’s also Eddie’s biggest sworn enemy, according to him— except, Eddie never explains what’s the reason behind it.
“Stan,” Eddie greets, with a fake smile.
“Hi,” Buck adds, trying not to wince. To be fair, Stan has always been nice enough with him, but if Eddie doesn’t like the guy, Buck doesn’t like him, either. He’s loyal like that.
“I’m glad I could catch you guys,” Stan says, and Buck perks up at noticing he has a clipboard. “See, I have a few ideas to propose today for the fundraiser, for one—”
“Stan,” Eddie starts, very diplomatic, “You can tell me about it,” Buck raises an eyebrow, surprised, “While my husband here,” he gestures at Buck, “Gets in to save us some spots,” then, Eddie turns and looks at him, earnestly. “Is that okay?
Buck coughs once, Stan makes a surprised sound. “Oh, I—,” he tries, and Eddie gives him a look, his face seems soft, “Yeah. It’s okay. I’ll do that,” Buck nods. “Yeah,” he says, acting completely normal. Buck hesitates, and squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, “See you in there.”
“See you,” Eddie says, sounding ridiculously fond, and leans in, kissing his cheek for the duration of three and a half seconds.
Buck counts them.
Miraculously, Buck’s knees don’t give out. He feels his face burning as he turns around to get into the school, his ears buzzing, he’s not really hearing the conversation behind him, nor watching his step— he almost collides with a wall.
For God’s sake. Eddie just called him his husband. Eddie just kissed his cheek, too. This is way different than yesterday…
What the hell is going on?
He likes it, that’s the thing. Sadly, he’s not drunk right now. Jesus, Buck could use some alcohol, actually. Or maybe another kiss on the cheek. Buck doesn’t know which one sounds better.
Well, he does know, to be fair.
He freaks out during the whole ten minutes that it takes Eddie to come inside. Has Eddie really been cloned?
Then, Eddie simply sits down next to him, plastering their thighs together while he offers commentary on the agenda. Buck is pretty sure his lungs aren’t working, but he agrees on everything that Eddie suggests, pitching in some ideas, too.
At some point, he sees Stan scoffing discreetly at them.
Huh.
As soon as the meeting is done, Buck hisses, “What was—”
“He wanted to ask you out,” Eddie cuts him off, guiding him out of the classroom, “Now he knows.”
“Knows what?” Buck asks, baffled. There’s a little ping of hope inside him that he doesn’t understand.
Eddie just shrugs, “Come on, we gotta pick Chris up.”
Okay, cool. Cool. Really. Whatever. Buck is not going to freak out anymore.
Buck is definitely freaking out again, has been for the past few days, actually.
The worst thing is, when it happens again, it’s his own fault.
He can’t help but think about it all the time. How right it felt to come to that conclusion on the bar, the easy way Eddie joined him in there, telling Kayla about their inexistent marriage, and how natural —ignoring the freakout— it felt at the school’s parking lot when Eddie called him that and kissed his cheek.
Jesus… He should get a grip, but he can’t.
It’s nice, that’s the problem. So nice, and it’s so, so far away from this dimension. It would never happen, except if somehow they were characters in a TV show, movie or book who agreed to marry each other if they’re single by 40. Well, sadly they’re not.
They’re real people, this is not fiction.
It goes like this, this time…
They’re having dinner at a nice restaurant, but it’s not like that. It’s a friendly dinner between two best friends, not even candle-lighted, so…
“…And, really, who does that? I think it’s very insensible,” Buck is saying, about a trend he saw earlier on Instagram Reels.
“Hm, maybe for the likes?” Eddie offers, tilting his head.
“Yeah, probably, but it’s—”
“Sorry for the delay, gentlemen,” the waiter says, depositing the dessert on their table. Buck sees Eddie beaming at the plates, and smiles to himself, probably looking like a goddamn idiot— it makes him happy to see his best friend happy, okay? That’s not illegal. “Did you enjoy your food?”
“Thank you,” Eddie says, grinning, “It was delicious.”
“Yeah, thank you!” Buck agrees, then, for some reason —he didn’t even have any wine tonight—, decides to say, “My husband here is always talking about coming to this restaurant,” he holds his breath while waiting for Eddie’s response.
Eddie blushes immediately, “Yeah, I just love the food…” he says, nodding. Buck’s heart skips. He thinks Eddie will leave it at that, but he adds to the lie, “See, we’re celebrating our wedding anniversary tonight.”
The waiter -Paul, says his name tag- nods, smiling, his eyes flickering between them both, “That’s good to hear.”
Buck almost chokes, surprised. Eddie kicks his foot under the table, and he kicks back. “Mhm,” he agrees, eventually. “It’s been four years already.”
“Oh my, that’s lovely, congratulations!”
“Thank you,” they both say, sounding very proud. Prouder than they should be of a fake marriage, that is. Once again, Buck wonders what the fuck are they doing.
Paul smiles, “I think a toast might be in order, right?” he asks, then, “On the house, of course.”
“Asshole,” Buck says later, as they wait for the Uber.
“You started it,” Eddie grins, a little too unbothered. “Husband.”
It’s the closest thing to talking about it that they have done. Buck pushes him, “You’re annoying, I’d never marry you,” he lies through his teeth, except, he feels the way his cheeks are heating up.
“Same,” Eddie agrees, still grinning wide, his eyes glistening. His phone pings as a truck parks in front of them, “That’s our ride.”
Buck opens up the door, gesturing at Eddie to get in, “After you,” he says, only half-joking.
Eddie snorts, “Shut up,” he replies lightly, eyebrows scrunched. He dutifully enters the truck, greeting the driver, Buck follows suit.
There’s a comfortable silence between them both. A few minutes into the ride, Eddie yawns, covering his mouth with his hand.
“You tired?” Buck asks quietly, the teasing from earlier forgotten. It is pretty late after all, plus, they came here right after their 12-hour shift.
“Mhm, from listening to you talk all night long,” Eddie replies, miserably. “It sucked.”
Buck blurts out a big laugh, despite himself, “Hey!” he complains, his voice faux-offended.
Eddie glances at him with a soft gaze, chuckling as well. “Kidding,” he adds, even though Buck knows already. “I’ll always hear you talk,” he yawns again, patting Buck’s bicep, his hand feels warm. “Love doing it… You’re like a portable chatterbox.”
“Wow. Romantic,” Buck says, raising one eyebrow, instead of screaming from the rooftops, or ripping his heart out of his chest. He acts perfectly normal, as normal as he is about his best friend, which is, a lot.
“That’s me,” Eddie agrees, simply, and Buck just has to put an arm around him, encouraging Eddie to lean into his shoulder. He does immediately, and Buck feels his whole body burning at the contact.
“I’ll wake you up once we get home, hm?” Buck offers in a whisper, adjusting his grip on Eddie— just to secure the guy.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, eyes closed, letting out small puffy breaths against Buck’s neck, “Home,” he repeats in a mumble, sounding pleased.
Buck feels ridiculously proud of himself for not crying.
It might sound shocking, but it keeps happening… All the time.
Before diving into that, though, let’s make something absolutely clear: Buck is not into Eddie.
No, really. He’s not, and he’s not in love with the guy, either— shut up, Maddie. It would indeed be crazy.
Well, sure, Eddie is handsome, and pretty, and funny and good and big and the best person to ever exist— an angel, actually. Anyone would be lucky to be with him, and Buck loves him a normal amount. Honestly. Buck has eyes, and a functioning heart, he would give his life for Eddie without a second thought. Hell, he tried to, that’s his best friend in the whole world.
And yeah, maybe it’s not so hard to picture himself next to Eddie, as… As a couple, to officially have their little family of three with Chris. It’s not difficult at all, and for some reason, his heart tightens at thinking about it. Being together. It could be nice, maybe it could heal Buck, even.
Of course, besides all of that, Eddie is also hot, ridiculously so. Buck has decided a long time ago that having sex with Eddie could make himself turn religious. But that’s only because Eddie is exactly his type, and he’s strong, with his huge biceps, he has a great ass, grabbable waist and big hands, big everything, and, well, he’s always so gentle and patient with Buck, he’s good, incredibly good, and competent, and just nice, maybe he could be convinced to get a bit rough with Buck sometimes, though, maybe he could throw him around a little, or—
Okay. Okay, that’s not where he was going at all. Huh.
Buck just means that, he’s not in love with Eddie, nor into him at all. Even though, sure, it might have been easy to be. It could be the easiest thing in the world.
Everyone must probably feel this way about their best friend. Isn’t it something occurring in close friendships, wanting to knit your souls and bodies together for all eternity?
Plus, Buck doesn’t get off thinking about Eddie, so…
Okay, not a lot of times, at least… Well, to be fair, not a lot of times this week. Or, hm, actually— Whatever. It doesn’t matter who he chooses to picture in his own fantasies, in the privacy of his (not actually) own house. Not the point, truly. The point is: he’s normal about Eddie. Best friend normal.
Eddie is straight, anyways. So there’s that.
End of that train of thought.
As stated before, this keeps happening regularly.
At the grocery store, when they are doing the shopping for the week. Sometimes, the cashier glances at the ridiculous quantity of whatever item Buck likes, and Eddie shrugs, mentioning very casually that his husband is obsessed with those. Or vice-versa.
At the park, whenever anyone even approaches them, really, either Buck or Eddie say something about their marriage, completely unprompted sometimes. There was this guy who just wanted to ask for directions, for example… He got the details of their honeymoon.
At some calls, even when Eddie isn’t close, and Buck has to talk to a patient, trying to get them to stay conscious and focused, or just helping to bandage them up, Buck asks about special people in their lives, then, tells them - very professionally - about his husband— just little things, quirks, small stuff, honestly, but then, with those interactions he notices something very important, something that is bad, truly, truly bad: in his head, he had started to actually think of Eddie as his husband.
As if— as if this were real, and they were genuinely married. Which is not good, not good at all, because it isn’t like that. It’s a joke. They’re not—
Fuck.
Then, unsurprisingly, it gets way worse.
It’s been a few weeks since that first incident. Right now, Buck and Eddie are walking to Linda’s backyard, which is heavily decorated for her birthday party. To be fair, Buck is not really that close with her, except, Eddie is. He loves her, and Linda seems to love him, too— as everyone does.
So, Linda invited Eddie to her party, and Eddie invited Buck to tag along, and here they are. Not a lot of science behind that.
Maddie isn’t here yet, but apparently, Josh is. As soon as Eddie notices, he rolls his eyes very dramatically, stepping on his tracks and pushing Buck to the other side, so they walk as far away from Josh as possible. Buck huffs out a little laugh, despite himself.
“Don’t laugh too loud, he smells fun and tears it apart,” Eddie warns, his hand loosely grabbing Buck’s wrist.
Buck, completely used to this, nods very seriously, “Sure,” he whispers, then adds, a bit sarcastically, “Don’t worry. He definitely won’t find us in this small private celebration.”
Eddie pauses, narrows his eyes and huffs, “You know… You’re not cute.”
“Dumbass,” Buck replies, immediately, in a very mature tone.
“You’re a dumbass. And you’re also—”
“Hey, boys,” someone says from behind them, cutting Eddie off.
Eddie closes his eyes for a second, seeming genuinely in pain, and almost like he’s praying for the person to go away. Buck smiles, turning around, “Hi, Josh.”
“Oh! Whoa! You doing matching outfits now?” Josh asks as he looks at them, smirking.
They were matching indeed, but it wasn’t intentional. Buck blushes furiously. Eddie, on the other hand, takes a deep breath. “Yep,” Eddie confirms, nodding, his jaw set. “Thought we might as well try it.”
“I see… It’s cute. Huh, somehow, I figured you would invite Buck to come along with you,” Josh adds, sounding like he knows something they don’t.
Buck tries to intervene, “Well—”
“That’s not— anyone could figure that out. I like Buck,” Eddie says, like it is obvious. He takes a step in front of Buck, almost shielding him. “I bring him along everywhere. What’s your point, exactly?”
“Oh, nothing… Nothing,” Josh replies cryptically, shrugging.
Before this escalates, Buck says, “Okay, great. We’re gonna—”, gesturing vaguely around the backyard, then putting a hand on the small of Eddie’s back to guide him away. “See you around, Josh.”
Josh is still smiling. It’s kinda weird.
“Ugh. He’s such an asshole,” Eddie complains, loudly. He frowns, and probably reads Buck’s mind, who was about to tell him to lower his voice, “I hope he hears me. Hell, I’ll go and say it to his face.”
“Easy, tiger. You won’t do that,” Buck replies, calmly.
“Of course I won’t do that,” Eddie agrees, sulking. “But I want to.”
“I know. Come on, I’m starving, let’s go get something to eat,” he offers, grabbing Eddie’s hand. Buck had meant to do it for, like, a few seconds, to offer reassurance or guide him or whatever. But Eddie squeezes it, and doesn’t let go.
Okay. It’s okay. They walk like that, holding hands very best friendly.
Nothing weird about it.
Time passes quickly, they spend a lot of time with Maddie once she arrives, but eventually she goes outside to Face-Time Jee before she falls asleep.
Looking back, Buck made a lot of mistakes that night, not going after her, not telling Eddie that maybe they should go home already, not doing literally anything else instead of saying…
“My husband’s over there.”
And then…
“Eddie, come say hi!”
Buck doesn’t even process what he said until Chiara, the newest dispatcher from the call center, with who he was talking to, looks at them, opens her mouth and says, “Oh! You two are lovely! Wait, you’re Maddie’s brother, right?”
“Thank you. Yeah, she’s my big sister,” he nods, before widening his eyes, the realization hitting him.
Oh, fuck. He shouldn’t have called Eddie that. How the hell will he explain it to Maddie?
He can already picture the face she’ll make when Buck explains that it is just a harmless joke between friends. Never mind the fact that he gets actual fucking butterflies in his stomach just thinking about the times they participated in said jokes— he won’t add that part to his explanation.
Buck excuses himself, claiming to need some air, and Eddie follows suit. Which, of course he does. Buck would never need space from Eddie.
Somehow, Buck is starting to think he’s absolutely fucked.
The next day, Maddie invites him to have breakfast at her house. As soon as he steps inside it, she attacks. Well, she doesn’t attack, Maddie is kind, and patient, and loves him, he knows that.
Maddie asks him, though, very bluntly, “Why are you saying that you and Eddie are married? Did I miss something?”
Buck groans. “Who told you that?”
She sits down on the couch, gesturing at him to do the same. “Josh overheard you last night,” Maddie explains.
“Figures,” Buck huffs. “Look, Mads, it’s not— We don’t say it that often, and—”
“Um,” Maddie says, blinking. “Wait. ‘That often’? You mean you both said that, multiple times?”
“Yeah,” he winces.
“How many times, exactly?”
“Um, I don’t know, a few times… Per day,” Buck scratches his neck, Maddie gasps. “But, just hear me out, all right? It’s a joke, you see…” he adds, trailing off. He doesn’t even know how to try and explain it.
“Okay,” Maddie nods, not unkindly, and puts on the exact same face that Buck pictured yesterday. “And how do you feel about this joke?” she asks, sounding so damn patient.
“It’s funny,” he shrugs.
“Is that all?”
“What do you want me to say, Mads?” Buck asks, feeling himself blushing, he avoids her eyes for a second. “Told you it’s funny.”
Maddie hums, “Does Eddie think the same?”
Buck mumbles something that he knows sounds unintelligible.
“I didn’t catch that,” Maddie says.
“We don’t talk about it,” Buck replies, finding his hands very interesting all of a sudden.
“Evan.”
“Madeleine.”
“That’s not my name,” Maddie huffs, pushing him.
He pushes her back immediately, sighs. “It’s just something that happens, you know? I think, um, we got used to it,” Buck explains with a shrug, trying to sound normal.
Maddie exhales deeply, closing her eyes for a second. “You guys got used to faking a marriage,” she echoes. “For fun.”
“… Kind of?” Buck says, sheepishly. He glances at her face and raises both hands. He groans, “I know what you’re thinking, Mads, but I’m not in love with him.”
Maddie is the picture of innocence, out of a sudden. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You implied it,” Buck rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Maddie is not right, not about this. They’ve been through it already.
Maddie shakes her head. “How did I imply it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“With your face,” Buck insists. Then, “I mean it, Maddie. I can’t be.”
There’s a beat, “Why can’t you?”
Buck stares at her before looking away for a second. “Because it would break my heart,” he replies, sounding small. Maddie frowns, opens her mouth to undoubtedly say something else, and Buck adds, “You see, Eddie… He won’t ever feel the same.”
“Buck—”
“And it’s okay! Don’t get me wrong,” he rushes to say. “It’s not a problem, because I’m not into him, so…”
Yeah, Eddie loves him, that’s not in question, Buck knows it, but it’s not like that. Not like…
Buck can’t allow himself to be in love with his best friend. He can’t.
Buck is starting to realize he might be in love with his best friend indeed. Yep. Well, he can’t deny it anymore, it’s true.
He sighs, defeated, unable to conceal sleep, deciding to never tell Maddie about this, or anyone, for that matter. Buck will take it to his grave. Eddie, sound asleep, shifts in his arms, snuggling closer to him, Buck squeezes his middle, breathing him in.
Maddie probably knows already, but still.
It all simply clicked into place earlier tonight. They were getting ready for bed, and Buck grimaced for half a second as there was an intense flare of pain that shoot through his knee.
Half a second, genuinely. He tried to cover it up, tried to recompose himself, schooling his face quickly, but Eddie noticed it, still.
“Hey,” Eddie said, reaching him immediately, a hand curling around him. “You okay?”
Buck nodded, “Yeah, just—” he grinded his teeth, willing for it to stop. Naturally, it didn’t. “Hurts,” Buck whispered in the end, feeling a bit pathetic. This sucked. He hated how much it could hurt at any given moment.
“Okay, come here,” Eddie instructed softly, helping him up on the bed.
Buck tried to protest, “You don’t have to—”
“Shush. Stay there, I’ll go and get your cream,” Eddie said, easily enough.
“Eddie…”
“Stay there,” Eddie repeated as he walked to the bathroom.
“Well, it’s not like I can get up and start running,” Buck huffed, without any heat in his voice, grabbing a pillow just to have something in his hands.
“Hm, would be the first time,” Eddie teased, walking back to him.
Buck had a retort on the tip of his tongue. Bickering with Eddie was easy, and comfortable, and he could focus on that instead of acknowledging the pain. But then, Eddie scooted closer to him, and Buck stilled, hearing how loud his own heart was beating.
“Can I?” Eddie asked in a whisper, his hand hovering over Buck’s leg.
Buck gulped. He did not even try to repeat that Eddie didn’t have to do this. “Go ahead,” he replied.
Eddie nodded and began applying the cream with such carefulness that Buck felt the way every inch of his own body was tingling. Then, as Eddie started to massage his knee expertly, Buck’s breath hitched, loudly.
Loud enough that Eddie looked up, his hands pausing. “Okay?” he asked.
Buck had to will himself to not blurt out something he would regret later on. “Mhm,” he nodded, staring at the ceiling, because if he focused himself on the image of Eddie looking up at him with his big brown eyes through his long eyelashes and sitting that close to him, things would get awkward very quickly, possibly with his shorts tightening right in front of Eddie’s face.
Eddie hummed back, and kept on with the massage. Something about this felt heavenly, he couldn’t tell what did, though. Could be the cream, or the massage, or Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s care.
Probably the last two.
“Feel better?” Eddie asked after a few minutes.
“Y-yeah,” Buck tried, then cleared his throat, composing himself. “Yeah, it does. Thank you, Eds.”
Eddie flashed him a bright smile, squeezing his ankle softly. “Of course.”
It made him want to—
Oh my God, Buck thought to himself, don’t even try to think about kissing him. No. Stop. Don’t get hard, either. Be normal. Normal.
And then, no, I can’t be normal. I’m in love with him. I want to—
“Ready to sleep?” Eddie said, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Sure,” Buck agreed, cool and nonchalant on the outside. Things were burning inside him, clearly, but he ignored them, hugging his best friend close— which, wasn’t very platonic, apparently. This was his best friend, who he was in love with.
Jesus Christ.
Right now, even though he’s in love with Eddie, Buck is also stressed out about him, sitting in a stupid hospital chair while waiting for news on him. He knows Eddie is conscious, at least.
It was a structure fire.
Buck was clearing a floor when his radio malfunctioned out of a sudden, he didn’t hear Bobby’s orders to evacuate the building immediately. It happened in the span of seconds, he was just reaching the hallway when there was a loud noise, then, “Buck!”
Eddie pushed him out of the way, and then, a chunk of debris fell on top of him. Eddie saved him, and Buck just stood there, frozen for a beat too long. Someone crying Eddie’s name broke him out of it— Buck realized it was his own voice, except it sounded so far away.
He sprung into action quickly after that, unpinning Eddie and getting him out as soon as he could, since Eddie’s mask seemed to be damaged, but he was still conscious.
God, Buck had never been more terrified in his life, his knees gave out when Hen and Chim grabbed Eddie, he fell to the floor as they checked Eddie, knowing damn well how much his body would ache tomorrow.
Bobby helped him up, carefully. “He’s okay, kid.”
Inhaling deeply, Buck could only reply, “Bobby…” in a whine, staring at him.
“I know,” Bobby nodded, squeezing his shoulder, his gaze soft, “But you got him out. Let’s go and check you out now, hm?”
“I’m fine.”
Bobby raised one eyebrow that Buck knew like the back of his hand. “And I’m your Captain. Come on, you can sit next to Eddie afterwards,” he offered. It sounded awfully similar to the way one would say the words 'walk’ or 'park' to watch a dog perk up.
Buck was still shaken up, but nodded anyway, letting himself be guided to the ambulance once Chim cleared him.
Eddie stared at him, his face looked tired. “Hey.”
“Hey. You good?” Buck asked, sitting down with a grimace.
“Yeah,” Eddie gave him a small smile. “You?”
Buck felt his throat tighten. “Mhm.” To be fair, he was seconds away from breaking into tears. He didn’t know why, Eddie was here, close enough to touch, and yet, Buck still felt like something was wrong.
He wanted to hold Eddie, to beg him to promise to never get hurt again, even though it wouldn’t be fair, since Buck himself couldn’t promise that. Still, Eddie would get what he means.
Before he got deeper into his thoughts, Eddie nudged him lightly. Buck looked up at him, and Eddie stared right back, neither of them mustering a word. Then, slowly, with his heart beating loudly, Buck offered his hand.
Eddie, still not breaking the apparent competition stare, grabbed it immediately, threading their fingers together, and squeezing hard. That was exactly what Buck needed, turned out.
“Thank you,” Eddie whispered. “For, um, getting me out.”
Buck’s gaze flickered to their joint hands, and then to his best friend’s face again. “Thank you for saving me,” he said, not knowing if he was only talking about tonight. He thought about what happened, added, “Please don’t scare me like that again.”
Eddie gave him a little smile, “Sorry,” pressing himself closer to Buck. Buck needed more, and felt bad about it. He blinked, realizing their team left them alone, huh.
Hesitatingly, he pressed back. Then, Eddie put his free arm around Buck’s shoulder, making him feel like he was in flames.
Buck was about to—
Well, he didn’t know, because out of a sudden, Eddie retracted and started coughing up, covering his mouth. It was a lot, his eyes already red-rimmed and wet. Buck’s eyes widened, he got up, and then, as soon as it started, the coughing fit stopped. Eddie looked down at his own hand, shocked.
There was blood all over it.
“T-the smoke you inhaled,” Buck said, paling, “Guys!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
The ER doctor walks in now, everyone in the waiting room sits up. “Family of Edmundo Díaz?” she asks.
Buck nods. “Yeah, I’m— how is he?”
“I’m Dr. Franklin. We ran some blood tests, Edmundo’s oxygen levels are good, his lungs are slightly irritated still— which caused the blood, but he should recover successfully,” she says. Buck lets out a breath, feeling his eyes fill up. “Fortunately, his turnouts prevented him from getting burned, although he does have some nasty bruises on his back. I would like to discuss instructions for when he’s discharged…” Then, pauses, “Um, I assume you’re family?”
“I’m his husband,” Buck replies immediately, ignoring a shocked gasp coming from behind him. “His medical proxy, too. Evan Buckley.”
“Good, Mr. Buckley. Then you’ll be able to monitor him through the night?”
“Yeah, I— Of course. Can I see him, please?”
Bobby pats his shoulder. Dr. Franklin nods, a small smile on her face. “For sure, you can come in. We’ll get his paperwork ready.”
Buck thanks her, entering the room. He’s meet with a tired smile, “Eddie,” he breathes.
“Hey, Buck,” Eddie replies softly, letting out a little sigh. “This sucks. How soon can we get home?”
“I—I’m sorry,” Buck blurts out, trying to not lose it, “I should’ve put my mask on you, I don’t know why—”
“What?” Eddie cuts him off, seeming baffled. “Then you would’ve inhaled the smoke, Buck. I would never allow that.”
“You were hurt,” Buck replies, frustrated at himself. He looks away. “Because of me, and I couldn’t even… I know it’s my fault, I’m sorry.”
“Buck,” Eddie starts, and Buck glances at him. “Stop it. I don’t blame you, bud, you saved me,” he says, pointedly. “I mean, you always do.”
But Eddie just said it sucked. “Eddie…”
“Come sit here,” Eddie pats his side of the bed. Buck blinks, hesitates, but nods, sitting carefully next to him. “Okay, that’s better,” he nods to himself, putting his hand on top of Buck’s. Eddie seems almost relieved to have Buck this close. “I barely inhaled any smoke, anyways,” he shrugs.
“You coughed up blood,” Buck protests a little weakly.
“Meh,” Eddie says, “Just to be clear, this sucks because I’d rather be at home with you, napping our tiredness away until Christopher’s bus comes by.”
Buck’s heart skips a beat, “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Eddie agrees, easily. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Buck,” he adds.
Buck breathes. “I wish you wouldn’t ever hurt yourself,” he says.
A soft grin breaks into Eddie’s face. “I have always wished that about you,” he replies.
It’s— Buck doesn’t even know what to do, he’s feeling so much, where is he supposed to put all the love he has for Eddie?
“Let’s both try and stay unharmed, hm?” Eddie suggests, brown eyes staring deep into Buck’s soul. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, a little transfixed on Eddie’s face. Buck hesitates, wondering if it would be crossing a line… But leans in, until there’s less than an inch of space between them, he raises his hand, slowly cupping Eddie’s jaw.
Buck pauses, unsure of himself, this is not him being impulsive— except Eddie seems to melt into the touch, nodding once. With that permission, Buck presses his lips to Eddie’s cheek, staying there for a few seconds. He feels warm under his touch, and so, so alive. Buck sighs dreamily as he leans back.
Then, Eddie, honest to God, giggles. He giggles. Jesus.
“What’s so funny?” Buck asks, although he’s fighting down a ridiculous little giggle, too.
“Nothing,” Eddie squeezes his hand. “It’s just—”
He’s cut off by the doors opening. “Mr. Díaz,” says doctor Franklin, then stops on her tracks, staring at them both. Buck feels himself blushing, quickly getting up from the bed. “Um, sorry to interrupt, we just finished your discharge’s paperwork, a nurse will be coming in to help you…”
“Oh, thank you, Doctor.”
“Hope we don’t see you again soon,” Dr. Franklin smiles, “I’m sure your husband will take good care of you.”
Buck opens and closes his mouth like a fish. Then, Eddie says, “Yeah, I know he will.”
Buck loves Chris.
Chris is smart, witty, and fun, and the most perfect boy, ever. He’s not a typical moody teenager, either, sure, he gets annoyed at them sometimes, likes to be glued to his phone and computer, and wants to stay up late with his friends, but he also seems to truly enjoy spending time with them both— the three of them have movie nights, and board games, and family outings. It’s perfect, all of it, and especially Chris.
It’s still weird for Buck to consider himself family, like he’s a part of the Díaz’ boys, except both Chris and Eddie keep assuring him, sometimes with eye rolls, that he is. Even if you don’t want to be, Eddie had said one day, as if there was anything in the world that Buck wanted more than this, than them.
It happens at Christopher’s school a few times again. By the end of May, after a quick chat they had with Celia, Janet’s mom, every parent knew of their marriage— because Celia announced it very loudly, congratulating the newlyweds, in her own words— which, okay, they never claimed to be newlyweds, if anything they are old-newlyweds, although, that doesn’t matter much. What matter is, that everyone at School knows.
Every single one of them.
There are so many parents, by the way, and of course, one chilly afternoon, Chris narrows his eyes at them both while they are having dinner.
“When did you guys get married?”
Eddie coughs. Buck freezes. “Uh, I— What do you mean, buddy?” Eddie asks, shooting Buck a quick glance.
“You both keep calling each other husband, apparently.” Chris explains, very casually.
“W-well… It’s just, something we say, you know?” Buck tries, like an idiot.
Chris seems to consider it. “So, you’re liars,” he nods. “All my life you both told me that I shouldn’t tell lies,” he adds, a teasing tone in his voice.
Eddie shakes his head, “No, bud. We’re not liars. Not at all. It’s, um, a joke….” Hearing Eddie say that makes Buck wince, knowing how it sounds out loud. Seriously, a joke? What were they thinking?
“Oh, okay…” Chris concedes, not seeming like he believes them, “For the record, I wouldn’t be… Mad, if you were, uh, married.”
Once again, Eddie coughs. Buck freezes, surprised. “Wha— really?”
“Yeah, Buck. It would be cool. A little weird, maybe… But, that’s nothing new.” Chris shrugs, noncommittally.
Eddie clears his throat, but his tone is soft. “We are not weird, Christopher.”
Chris nods. “Um. I said a little weird,” he clarifies, then, smiles apologetically, “Sorry.”
“Chris,” Eddie starts, and Buck holds his breath. “We’ll tell you if we get engaged, okay, kid?” he assures, and Buck blinks, he wasn’t expecting that.
“Okay, sure,” Chris says easily, and keeps eating from his plate, like it is that simple.
Maybe it is, he thinks with hope.
Or maybe it is not…
Eventually, it all comes to an end a few weeks later.
Buck wakes up cold. He opens his eyes just to find himself alone on the bed, frowning, he takes a look around— Eddie is nowhere to be seen, it’s midnight according to his clock. Rubbing his eyes, he gets up from the bed, walking out of the room to look for him.
You see, Buck has kind of pavloved himself into sleeping at night only when Eddie’s by his side, which is ridiculous, they can’t be glued to each other every other night, but that doesn’t stop them from trying, still. It is a little harder at the station, because they are serious professionals that wouldn’t share one of their bunk beds, of course. Well, they did try once, and Bobby had forbidden them to do it again, so…
Anyways, Bobby didn’t say anything about the station’s couch. Chim groaned loudly the first time he went up to the kitchen and found Buck and Eddie cuddling. Bobby, on the other hand, sighed softly, he looked amused, maybe a bit exasperated, too.
It’s nice, okay? Eddie is so tactile and warm, it makes Buck crazy sometimes— all the time, really.
He steps on his tracks when he finds Eddie in the kitchen. Buck blinks, standing a few steps behind him, Eddie is humming under his breath, stirring something. And he… He’s wearing one of Buck’s football jerseys from college —naturally, Buck stayed for two semesters only—, a big 28 number on his back on top of the bright green letters spelling Buckley. It looks loose on him, and, to be fair, it also looked loose on Buck, the last time he wore the jersey, which was almost three years ago— then, he never saw it again.
Eddie turns around, looking surprised, “Buck.”
“Hey,” Buck gives him a tired smile, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing? It’s late.”
“Woke up and couldn’t sleep,” Eddie shrugs, leaning against the counter, “I’m making myself tea.”
Buck is still half-asleep, “You should’ve woken me up,” he huffs, walks forward until there’s not even an inch of space between them.
Eddie grins, bright in the middle of the dim lights, looking up at him. “So it would be the two of us awake?”
“Yeah,” Buck nods, seriously. He gives in, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle, breathing him in. “I can’t sleep without you, anyways,” he mumbles into Eddie’s hair.
He hears the way Eddie’s breath hitches loudly. “I’ll make sure to wake you up next time, then,” he promises in a whisper, holding Buck closer.
“Mhm, okay,” Buck hums softly, wishing this was real.
It is real, sure, but he wants more. He’s selfish, and greedy, and needs to have all of Eddie, all the time.
“I’d be a good husband to you,” Buck adds, before his brain can process it. He retracts a little, “Uh, I mean—”
“I know you’d be,” Eddie agrees after a beat.
Buck stills, not knowing how to react. “Eddie…”
“Hm?”
“We should, uh— we should go back to bed. Once you finish your tea.” Buck takes a step back, feeling his cheeks burning up.
Eddie stares at him for a second. Nods. “Yeah, sure.”
Back under the covers, Buck hesitates, turning around to look at his best friend, then, “Uh, Eddie? Did you… Where did you find that jersey?”
“I—” Eddie clears his throat. “I don’t know. Our stuff must have gotten mixed up,” he says, even though Buck knew this one had been on the back of his own closet, before it disappeared— he lived at the loft back then. “I’ll give it back to you.”
Buck frowns, shaking his head, “No, no. Keep it. Looks better on you, anyways.”
There’s a beat. “Oh. Okay. Thank you, Buck… You know, I never liked football players” Eddie says, teasing.
Buck considers it, tilts his head. "Sure, because you didn’t have the pleasure to meet me while I was one.” He was, possibly, the worst player of them all, but still.
“Right,” Eddie hums. “It would have given me headaches. Something tells me you injured yourself a lot on the field.”
“I didn’t,” Buck shakes his head, then, “Well, no, I did, actually— but that’s normal.”
“You’re not normal.”
Buck pushes him lightly. Huffs. “You’re not normal, either,” he declares.
“Guess we should stick together, then,” Eddie replies, casually.
“Yeah,” Buck swallows audibly, feeling his whole body tingling. “Guess so.”
They fall asleep shortly after that, then, the morning comes, and Buck’s world tilts to its axis.
Eddie is making breakfast, and Buck loves him so goddamn much. His chest tightens at seeing Eddie flipping pancakes, of all things. He needs to get out of the house before spilling his guts about everything he feels for this guy. Seriously.
“You want honey or maple syrup?” Eddie asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Buck looks at him, then immediately looks away. He can’t do this. “Uh, maple syrup, please,” he tells the utensils, like a coward.
“Sure. Here you go, sir.” Eddie says, smiling at him while passing him a plate.
“Thank you,” Buck replies, instead of begging Eddie to give him a chance— he could be good. Eddie could love him.
Just to have something to do, Buck cuts a piece and starts chewing on it. He pauses, considers it, gasps, “You changed your recipe.”
“Mhm.”
“This is so good, what did you add?”
“Secret ingredient,” Eddie shrugs. Buck is about to protest, then, “I don’t know, love, maybe.”
“Cheesy,” Buck huffs, begging at his own heart to calm the fuck down. He takes another bite, groaning. “Bobby and your Abuela did us all a service.”
“Hey. Be grateful I’m feeding you,” Eddie says, lightly.
“I’m grateful,” Buck assures, possibly with heart eyes, “You’re the best.” His mind does not supply him with different ways to thank Eddie. It does not.
“Mhm, that’s me. The best husband you could ask for…” Eddie widens his eyes as he seems to realize what he just said, Buck drops his fork.
Ah, shit.
Fuck everything. Fuck this. Buck is standing in front of Eddie half a second later, he’s had enough.
Eddie doesn’t push him away, but he doesn’t bring Buck closer, either. Just stares at him with his pretty, pretty face.
Buck glances at Eddie’s lips, and sighs. He’s a weak man.
“Fuck. Eddie… You can say no, or kick me out,” Buck starts, feeling out of breath, “But I really, really want to kiss you right now,” he confesses, hoping for him to feel the same.
Eddie finally moves, grabbing Buck’s face, ever so carefully. “Go ahead,” he whispers, and that’s the only confirmation Buck needs, lunging forward to catch his best friend’s mouth.
His best friend, his partner, his husband, the goddamn love of his life. Eddie grabs him by the nape of his neck to bring him closer, then gasps into the kiss, almost sounding surprised, and Buck slips his tongue inside, feeling dizzy all over. He tugs a little on Eddie’s hair to change the angle, and Eddie shudders, one hand letting out a small sound that Buck needs to devour.
Buck wants to lick every inch of Eddie’s body, to mark him forever— he could live here. He swears he’ll try.
Eventually, the kiss gets slower, less frantic, a lot sweeter. Buck doesn’t know if there’s still remains of maple syrup in his mouth, or if that sweet taste is all Eddie.
Eddie breaks the kiss, and Buck, almost involuntarily, follows his mouth again, still dazed. Then, after a few seconds, Eddie huffs out a laugh, retracting a little.
Buck almost whines at the loss. He stares at Eddie’s face, dumbfounded, his heart skips a beat. Eddie is always pretty, but right now, with his cheeks flushed, eyes dark and lips glistening, he looks more celestial than ever.
God. Buck wants him so bad. He leans in, trying to get another kiss, and Eddie stops him, holding the nape of his neck. “Let me speak.” He sounds out of breath, too, and a little amused.
“I love it when you speak,” Buck promises, eagerly, “But I want to kiss you again.”
“Me too,” Eddie threads his fingers into Buck’s curls, who sighs dreamily at the touch. “We need to talk, though.”
“I hate talking,” Buck declares, one hand slipping into the front of Eddie’s shirt, leaving it on top of his belly— he always wanted to do that.
Eddie seems to flush harder, “How long?”
“Hm?” Buck asks, distractedly, a little too focused on the feeling of Eddie’s skin under his palm.
“For how long did you want to kiss me?”
Buck blinks, “All my life. I was born for it.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “Buck.”
“Okay, I realized a few weeks ago, when you, uh— when my knee was hurting before going to sleep,” he offers.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, um, what about— what about you? If you…” Buck hesitates, he’s pretty sure Eddie was into the kiss, too, but still…
“Hospital bed.”
“You have to be more clear, dude. We do spend a lot of time on hospital beds.”
Eddie threads their fingers together. “The last one— I thought you were about to kiss me.”
“That was the next day after I realized,” Buck says, surprised. “Are you telling me we are both stupid?”
“I don’t know about me…” Eddie shrugs, grinning.
“Shut up,” Buck says, unable to keep himself from grinning, too. “And— and the husband thing…” he adds, not knowing how to keep going.
“Made me crazy.” Eddie huffs loudly, “You make me crazy, Buck. Jesus, you don’t know how much I want you, how much I want to— And when you call me that…”
“Oh. I need to know in extreme detail what you want,” Buck says, eagerly, his mind trailing off.
Eddie glares at him, “Later. I— Fuck. I really, really wanted for it to be real,” he whispers. “Still do.”
Buck has probably lightened up like a goddamn Christmas tree, “Really?” he asks, hopeful. He can’t quite believe this, still.
“Of course,” Eddie says, like it’s obvious. “I got us rings. My sisters have been teasing me endlessly from across the country.”
Buck freezes. “Rings?”
“Yeah, I— Is that too much?” Eddie seems to hesitate.
Too much? Buck almost scoffs. “I’d marry you right now, with Ring Pops even, Eddie. What the fuck?”
Eddie breathes out, “That’s not how the song goes.”
Buck giggles, ignoring the opportunity to bicker. “You want to be my real husband,” he whispers, voice filled with disbelief.
“Got tired of being your fake one, yeah,” Eddie shrugs, his face soft. “Do you want that, too?”
“Be serious, Eddie. Clearly I do,” Buck huffs, then, he realizes something, beaming. “I get to plan our wedding.”
Eddie seems to realize something about it as well, eyes wide, “You’ll terrorize everyone.”
“I won’t terrorize everyone. I’ll only terrorize you, because you like me. Wait— no, you love me,” he musters, realizing none of them has said the words. “Oh my God.”
“I do love you, bud.”
Buck grins, “I love you, too,” he sighs. “Fuck. I love you so much.”
Eddie leans in, kissing him softly, and Buck melts into it, knowing this will be his life from now on.
Of course Eddie would never, ever break his heart, what was he thinking? Eddie loves him, and it’s in the exact way Buck needs.
He’s about to break into a fit of giggles at realizing he’s kissing his best friend in the whole world, when an alarm rings.
They separate quickly, as if they were not grown men, but teenagers getting caught.
Soon enough, there’s a door being opened, and Buck hears the familiar way Chris’ crutches sound against the floor. His heart skips a beat, and Eddie squeezes his hand.
“Morning,” Chris yawns, he sits down on the table, putting his crutches aside.
“Good morning, kiddo,” Eddie says, his voice filled with love as usual when it involves Chris.
“Hey, morning, buddy.”
Chris looks up, staring at them both with an eyebrow raised. “What?”
“What, what?” Buck says, nervous.
“Uh, you’re holding hands,” Chris seems suspicious. “Is that… Is that your new joke?”
Buck is tempted to say that his hand was cold and Eddie decided to help, but Eddie beats him. “Remember when I said we’ll let you know if we get engaged?” Eddie says. Buck gasps.
Chris blinks, “Oh. Whoa… Cool.”
“Surprise?” Buck offers.
“Hardly a surprise, guys,” Chris shrugs, seeming nonchalant, but his cheeks start to flush, “I’m glad.”
What are they supposed to do, really, besides taking turns to kiss Chris’ forehead and tell him how much they love him?
“Hey, Buck?” Eddie says later, out of a sudden.
“Yeah, baby?” Buck replies, then, hesitates, “Is that okay? Can I call you baby— or, or maybe I could—”
“We’re getting married. You can call me baby, man,” Eddie assures, smiling crookedly at him. Buck is going to marry the shit out of him.
“Sure thing, dude,” Buck teases, kissing his cheek. His fiance’s cheek. He’s about to scream from the rooftops. “What were you about to say?”
“Um, I stole your football jersey. Kinda.” Eddie confesses, closes one eye, seeming embarrassed.
Buck blinks, a little confused, “I know that, Eds.”
“Wait, how did you—”
“I mean, I realized last night. It literally disappeared after I wore it hanging out with you, like, three years ago,” Buck shrugs. It was not really hard to put the pieces together.
Eddie’s face goes pinker than before. “Sorry. Uh, it’s comfortable… I like it.”
“I like you in it,” Buck says, earnestly, “I’m totally giving you all my jerseys, now.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly.
“To me, it’s very important to see my name on your back,” Buck points out, gravely. “Hey. Thoughts on wearing my turnouts on calls?”
“Oh my God, Buck.”
“I mean it.”
Eddie pecks him, sighs. “Ugh, I know you do.”
Buck beams. “I’d wear yours, of course.”
“Um,” Eddie pauses, scrunching his eyebrows almost like he’s considering it. Then, “No. Bobby would kill us.”
“Come on.”