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“Asshole,” Buck says under his breath. No one hears it but their patient, who only manages a few confused blinks in his direction before Hen and Chim load her in the ambulance.

It’s Buck’s fault. Last night he’d finally lost it, in a way that would make things irreparably weird between them. Chris was out (thank god for his neverending social calendar) and it was just the two of them having a simple meal of chicken and potatoes, paired with a white wine Buck picked up earlier that day. Everything was normal, the evening progressing the way most of them had been since Eddie and Chris came back from Texas, Buck hanging around like a leech as the housing market failed him again and again. Not that Eddie or Chris seemed to mind, but he was very deliberately not thinking about that.

Eddie had been in the middle of talking about taking Chris shopping on their next day off — he’d had yet another growth spurt, outgrown all his jeans and shoes. Eddie wasn’t all teary about it the way he had been the last time, but there was still something a little wobbly in his voice that made Buck’s heart squeeze in his chest. He had a smudge of sauce on his chin that Buck was staring at, hands clenched into fists to keep himself from wiping it away with his thumb. And for some reason, that little bit of sauce is what finally sent him over the edge.

“I mean, do department stores even exist anymore? Or should we just take him to—”

“I’m in love with you,” Buck said, nails digging so hard into his skin he was surely bleeding.

Eddie had frozen mid bite, and Buck watched in a kind of trance as he lowered his fork, eyes like fucking Bambi as he stared at Buck.

Time stretched in an agonizing way — he thinks he lived several lifetimes in the seconds they blinked at each other in silence.

Finally, Eddie broke it, that stupid smudge of gravy mocking him as Eddie’s mouth moved softly around his name.

“Buck.”

And he bolted. Stood so fast his legs knocked into the table, spilling wine all over his plate and Eddie’s lap, and before Eddie could even say his name again he was out of the kitchen and racing towards his car.

He went to Maddie and Chim’s. He barely remembered the drive, highway hypnosis taking over as he drove the twenty-five minutes to their place. And all it took was one good look at his face for Maddie’s to soften, eyes big and gentle as she said, “Oh Evan.”

Eddie followed him, of course. He turned up five minutes after Buck, pounding on the door while Buck hid in Jee’s room like a coward. (She played along perfectly, miming zipping her lips when he held his finger up to his own and keeping watch at the door — he was going to buy her a cookie the size of her head the next time he babysat). He could hear their voices down the hall, Eddie sounding frantic and Maddie placating. The only words he could make out towards the end were, “Just give him some time, Eddie.”

It worked, for better or worse. An hour later Eddie dropped off a bag of Buck’s clothes and the book he’d left on the nightstand, as well as a note that read, “I’m not going anywhere” in his handwriting that may or may not have made Buck cry into Maddie’s scratchy throw pillow for thirty minutes straight.

Eddie had been patient at first — for the most part. He texted Buck every waking hour until their shift, varying between reassurances and requests for Buck to please call him, but he didn’t push it when Buck didn’t reply. Buck seriously considered calling into work the next day, but he knew that would just worry Eddie, and he was desperate to pretend nothing had happened. Eddie gave him all of five minutes at work before he approached Buck and asked if they could talk.

“Please, Buck, just hear me out—”

“No, Eddie, you don’t—it’s okay, I didn’t mean to say it, w-we can just. Move on.”

“Who says I—Buck. I don’t want to move on, you can’t just say that and expect me to pretend—”

“Eddie, please—”

“No, c’mon. I gave you plenty of time.”

Buck snorted. “You gave me thirteen hours.”

“And a half. Buck—”

Buck was saved by the bell, though it offered no real reprieve. Eddie seemed determined to get under his skin, and god help him, he did.

First, there was the barista at the coffee shop where they had to put out a small kitchen fire. She’d been all over Eddie, raking her multi-colored nails down his arm in thanks. At first it seemed like he was going to gently brush her off, until he caught sight of Buck watching. Instead he leaned in, smiling his stupid flirtatious smile, all while cutting glances over at Buck. Buck pretended not to watch, but it was impossible not to — it was hard enough not to look at him on a normal day, let alone when Eddie was actually trying to be alluring.

After that call there was the incident in the gym. Eddie asked Buck if he would spot him, and Buck made up some excuse about helping Chim. Unfortunately, Chim was doing inventory in the ambulance, which put Buck directly in Eddie’s eyeline, and vice versa. He had to count the tongue depressors individually in an effort to not stare as Eddie worked out. In shorter shorts than Buck even knew he owned, by the way, wiping his face with his shirt to expose his abs at least once every two minutes. He wasn’t even sweating.

On and on it went, and now it’s been an entire day of this. Ten whole hours of an Eddie who’s apparently lost his mind, the Wile E Coyote to Buck’s roadrunner, baiting him with every bicep flex and bat of his eyelashes. Except unlike the roadrunner, Buck is falling for it every time.

He stomps his way over to where Eddie is still flirting with their vic, throwing his head back to laugh exaggeratedly as he finishes wrapping up her bandages. Buck catches the tail end of their conversation as he approaches.

“It’s only about thirty minutes from here,” she’s saying. She fumbles in her purse for a pen, scribbling what is definitely a phone number on a scrap of paper and laying it in Eddie’s waiting hand. “Call me if you have any issues.”

“Thanks Annie,” Eddie says with a genuine smile, and Buck tries to hold back a scoff. It comes out as a weird choking sound instead, and both Eddie and Annie turn to look at him.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says cheerfully, like he’s happy to see him. Buck can’t stand him. “Need something?”

“We need to talk,” Buck says curtly, taking Eddie by the elbow and dragging him away. He calls, “Excuse us,” over his shoulder as an afterthought, and sees Eddie waving weakly in his peripheral.

He pulls Eddie into an abandoned alleyway around the corner from the crash site. He’d feel guilty if they weren’t already pretty much done here. Bobby’s talking to Athena, giving her the rundown for her report, so they’ll be wrapping up pretty soon. Eddie leans against the brick when Buck releases him and crosses his arms.

“You finally ready to talk to me?” Eddie asks, and Buck’s patience runs out at last.

“What the hell are you doing?” Buck asks, and Eddie’s face shifts in surprise at Buck’s tone. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Eddie asks innocently.

Buck lets out a frustrated sound and drags a hand through his hair, tugging a little to ground himself. “Don’t play dumb. You’re torturing me. This is torture, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says, quirking an eyebrow. “Why would I want to torture you?”

“You tell me.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Eddie points out. “We’re talking.”

Buck shakes his head. “No. No, I’m not—we’re not talking about it, Eddie. It shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have said it, okay?”

“You don’t have to talk at all,” Eddie counters, pushing off the wall and stepping into Buck’s space. Buck takes a step back and Eddie follows. “Just listen to me.”

Buck hesitates, but Eddie is serious. There’s something intense in his eyes, something charged in the air between them that he wants to chase despite himself.

“I-if I listen, will you stop messing with me?”

Eddie softens. “Yeah, I will. I promise.”

“Okay,” Buck croaks. “I’m all yours.”

Eddie smirks, and Buck flushes down to his toes. “Ears, I’m all—all ears,” he corrects, and Eddie just keeps smiling like the cat that got the cream. “We’re uh, still on a call though, so.”

“This won’t take long,” Eddie says, then pushes Buck against the wall and kisses him.

It throws him so much that he rears back automatically, and would’ve slammed his head into the brick if not for Eddie’s hand already there, protecting it. He blinks at Eddie for a long, heated moment, sees his eyes dip down to Buck’s mouth, and crushes their lips together with a soft whine.

Eddie’s mouth is soft, his hands big and warm where they cradle Buck’s head, and he drowns in the heat of him, the smell of him, slightly antiseptic but all Eddie underneath. He grabs a fistful of Eddie’s turnouts and pulls him closer, Eddie doing his best to accommodate, tangling their legs together and pushing Buck so hard into the wall he can feel the individual grooves of the brick in his spine. He groans when Eddie swipes his tongue across his lower lip, opens his mouth greedily, lets Eddie take him apart with embarrassingly little effort.

They only break apart when their radios crackle to life between them, Bobby’s tinny voice bringing them crashing back to reality.

“Buck, Eddie, we’re all clear. You copy?”

Eddie keeps Buck’s gaze as he presses the button to respond, chest heaving a bit, cheeks flushed and mouth wet with Buck’s spit, and Buck feels a spark of pride zip down his spine. He did that. To Eddie.

“Yeah Cap, we copy. Heading to you.”

The radio goes silent, and they stare at each other until their breathing evens out. Eddie cracks a hesitant half-smile and breaks the silence at last.

“You, uh. You gonna run away from me again?” Eddie asks.

“Maybe,” Buck answers honestly.

Eddie laughs, glancing down at his feet before he looks back at Buck. “Well before you do, I just have one question.”

“Sure, yeah, anything,” Buck says, tripping over the words, already missing the feel of Eddie’s mouth on his. He feels strangely disconnected from his body, wonders if his heart will ever beat normally again, the last five minutes feeling like some sort of waking dream.

They’re not touching anymore, Eddie having stepped back when Bobby interrupted them, but he takes a small step closer now and asks, “Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

It’s heartbreakingly vulnerable despite all his earlier cockiness. He reaches up, brushing a tentative hand down Buck’s neck to his shoulder, as though it might be unwelcome, and Buck could almost laugh at how absurd it is. As if there is anything in the world Buck wouldn’t allow him, wouldn’t give him.

“Weeell, I’m not sure. I’ll have to check my calendar, I’m a pretty busy guy, you know,” Buck teases, unable to fight the grin spreading across his face.

Eddie smiles too, digs his fingers a little harder into Buck’s skin. “Buck.”

“Doesn’t feel too good, does it?” Buck asks, but he’s a far weaker man than Eddie and they both know it. Eddie just raises a brow, repeats his name in that same exasperated tone and it’s all over, Buck folding like a stack of cards.

“Yes, Eddie,” Buck answers, and if Eddie weren’t still holding him he’d be floating. “I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

Eddie’s face breaks open, smiling more beautifully than Buck even thought was possible, and Buck knows he must have the same giddy look on his own face.

“Good,” Eddie says, and presses a quick kiss to his mouth, chuckling when Buck tries to chase his mouth.

Eddie tugs him away from the alley with a hand on his wrist, then on the small of his back as he leads them towards the engine. “You know, I was gonna give you shit for taking so long, but it actually worked out in my favor.”

“Oh yeah?” Buck asks.

“Yep,” Eddie says smugly, removing his hand from Buck’s back and producing Annie’s number from his pocket. “Annie owns that French place you’ve been saying you wanted to try for a year. Said she’d give us a good table and a free bottle of wine if I call ahead.”

“Oh,” Buck says softly, heart flipping in his my chest, and Eddie chuckles. “You—you did that before even asking me?”

Eddie pauses, just out of sight of their team waiting for them in the engine, and pulls Buck in for one last devastating kiss.

“I had a good feeling about it.”