#shitouttabuck

“Of course I can, you’re my best friend. It just felt like I’d brushed you off too many times lately, and I don’t wanna do that.”

“It’s fine,” Buck says, but he’s not sure how convincing he sounds. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re not a priority,” Eddie continues like Buck didn’t say anything, and Buck has to close his eyes briefly. Being bulldozed by Eddie’s love and care has gotten so much harder since he’s had his realization. “Because you are. So shut up and let me hang out with you, okay?”

Buck laughs a little. “Okay, okay. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So I didn’t interrupt any plans?”

“Nah,” Buck shrugs. “Was gonna go for a run or something later, but that’s it.”

He swallows down the self-deprecating “Don’t have anyone to make plans with,” before he can say it (he knows it’s not entirely true, but Maddie is so preoccupied with her own family, and everyone else has their own thing going on too, he doesn’t want to bother them), but Eddie hears it anyway, of course.

“I’m surprised you’re not at Bobby and Athena’s right now, making sure they’re recuperating.”

“I’m going there tomorrow,” Buck admits sheepishly, but Eddie looks more pleased than anything else.

“Good,” he says. “And you should come over for dinner this week, you know Christopher can’t go a week without seeing you.”

“You don’t have to make sure I’m…entertained, or whatever,” Buck mutters. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Eddie says. “It’s just– you seem a little off, lately. Since the cruise thing, or maybe the breakup. I don’t know, but I worry about you.”

“I’m fine,” Buck says again. “You don’t have to cancel on your girlfriend to check on me.”

“That’s not– Buck, I want to hang out with you. I’d like it if you talked to me about what’s going on with you, but I want to spend time with you regardless of that. I didn’t come over here to check on you, or to interrogate you.”

“Okay,” Buck says quietly. “Okay. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so touchy today.”

But he does know – he’s tired and grouchy and a little bit heartbroken, and it apparently makes him snippy.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says. “Do you wanna talk about the breakup?”

“Not really.” Buck takes a sip of his beer. “There’s not that much to say anyway. It just became obvious eventually that we didn’t have much in common. Besides the death thing, I guess.”

They’re back in comfortable territory after that, talking the same way they always do, and Buck finally relaxes. He worries about seeming anything less than normal lately, scared to be caught out, unsure about what is his normal around Eddie. Looking back, it seems to him like he’s never been really normal about him at all, but it’s different when he knows.

He’s clearly not doing the best job, because Eddie noticed that he’s been acting strange, but not the worst either, because at least he can’t tell why. And Eddie’s acting the same, so everything is fine.

The next time Buck asks Eddie to hang out, he suggests taking Christopher to California Science Center together that weekend, and Eddie says yes after only a second of hesitation.

“They’ve got a special exhibit on Da Vinci right now,” he says. “It’s supposed to be really cool.”

“You had me at ‘California Science Center’,” Eddie says with a smile, and Buck grins back, already excited to tell Christopher.

“This is so much better than going shopping,” Christopher breathes a few days later, staring up at a model of da Vinci’s Flying Bicycle.

“What do you mean?” Buck asks. “Were you supposed to go shopping today?”

“Yeah, Dad said we need to get me new jeans and shoes,” Chris says distractedly. “And I think Marisol was supposed to come for dinner. But we can do that another time, I like you better anyway.”

Buck doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what to say, to any of the things Chris has just told him. Should he encourage him to make more of an effort with his dad’s girlfriend? But Eddie has never mentioned Chris being anything but nice to her, so it sounds like things are fine – and Buck can’t make him like her more than he does.

And– Eddie canceled his plans for him again? It makes warmth spread in his chest, a pleased little creature stretching in there. As a best friend, he should probably tell Eddie to prioritize his girlfriend, but he already knows he won’t do that. Maybe that makes him a terrible person, but it’s not like he’s telling Eddie to pick him over her. Eddie’s doing that all by himself, and Buck is selfish enough to let him.

A week later, Buck wakes up in the bunkroom with a sore throat and a headache at the tail end of their shift.

When he stumbles up to the loft, Hen only gives him one glance before coming over to worriedly press the back of her hand to his forehead.

“Yeah, you’re definitely coming down with something,” she announces, and Bobby steps around the kitchen counter, a frown on his face.

“Don’t worry about finishing up the shift, Buck,” he says. “Should I get someone to drive you home?”

“I’m okay,” Buck mutters. “Well, n-not okay, but– I can drive myself home.”

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks, coming up the stairs. He pauses at the top, taking in the scene, then rushes to Buck’s side. “Buck? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Buck says, but his voice sounds a bit croaky. “Just think I’m getting sick.”

Eddie presses his hand to his forehead too, then nods grimly. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No, seriously, I’m okay to drive,” Buck says. “I promise. I’ll drive carefully and text you when I’ve made it home and everything.”

Chimney appears in the loft next and they do the whole spiel again, until finally, the others agree to let him drive home by himself. Buck would never go so far as to endanger anyone else, even to avoid bothering his friends, and they all know it.

“Tell us if you need anything,” Hen says. “Anything at all.”

“Food, entertainment, meds, we’ll bring you anything,” Chimney adds. “And text your sister, she’ll want to know.”

“I’ll take you off the next shift, too,” Bobby says, gently steering him towards the stairs with a hand on his shoulder. “Rest, okay? We don’t want you to overexert yourself. And get well soon.”

Eddie accompanies him all the way to his jeep, his arm steady and warm whenever it brushes against Buck’s, and leans against the car while Buck climbs in.

“I’ll drop by later with some stuff,” he says. It’s not a question, but Buck tries anyway.

“You don’t have to,” he says. “I have food at home, I’ll probably just lay in bed and sleep or watch TV until I feel better. I don’t want you to catch anything.”

Eddie gives him a look. “I’ll see you later, Buck,” he says, and pointedly closes the car door.

Buck grins, helpless against it, and starts the jeep.

At home, he texts the group chat that he made it, Maddie that he’s a little under the weather but that she shouldn’t worry and that he has everything he needs, then changes into sweats and a hoodie and collapses into bed.

When he wakes up, it’s to the smell of food and soft clattering sounds from the kitchen. The red numbers on his alarm clock tell him it’s afternoon already, so he slept a good few hours despite the sleep he already got on shift. He sits up, sneezes three times in a row, and by the time he’s blinked away the sleep, Eddie is standing at the top of the stairs, holding a mug.

“Drink this,” he says, handing Buck the mug. “How’re you feeling?”

Buck makes a noncommittal sound and takes a sip of the tea. The truth is that he’s really feeling sick now, stuffy nose, full body shivers, and still that annoying headache.

“Hm,” Eddie makes, touching Buck’s forehead again. “Sorry, bud, I know this sucks.”

Buck closes his eyes. “Kinda, yeah.”

“Well, if you’re feeling up to it, I’ve got some chicken soup on the stove that should be ready soon. You can eat some of it and rest on the couch?”

“I’ll come downstairs in a bit,” Buck says, breathing in the steam rising up from the mug. “Need to wake up a little.”

“Sure,” Eddie says, his hand twitching towards Buck but falling back to his side before it makes contact. “Take your time.”

Buck drinks the tea in bed, then goes to the bathroom before he slowly heads downstairs. His head is pounding now, and sudden moves make it worse.

Eddie meets him at the foot of the stairs, brow creased.

“Come on, sit down,” he says gently, ushering Buck over to the couch and spreading his fuzzy blanket over his legs once he’s sitting. “Are you warm enough?”

Buck smiles a little. “Yeah, stop fussing. You’re such a dad.”

Eddie shrugs, but he’s smiling too. “Can’t help it.”

He gets Buck a bowl of steaming chicken soup and then sits down next to him with a paper bag full of meds.

Buck gives him a bemused look. “Did you do anything today that wasn’t for me?”

“I had the time,” Eddie shrugs. “Christopher had plans for after school anyway, he’s not gonna be home until after dinner.”

“And you didn’t want to use the time to make plans with Marisol?” Buck asks, focusing on his soup instead of on Eddie. He doesn’t want to keep bringing her up, but he feels like one of them has to, or he’s gonna go crazy.

“She gets it,” Eddie says nonchalantly, like he’s not implying that he canceled on her again.

“But…,” Buck forces himself to keep going, “are things still going well with her?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Eddie says, a little hesitant now. “I’m just also not sure it’s right? She’s nice, and fun, and I like hanging out with her, but…I guess I just– she’s kind of further down on my list than a girlfriend should be.” He shakes his head, then shakes the paper bag in his hand. “Anyway, time to take these.”

So Buck focuses on taking his meds and finishing the soup, rather than the fact that his heart is beating a staccato rhythm against his sternum.  It probably doesn’t mean anything. Even if Marisol isn’t the one for Eddie, doesn’t mean he’d consider Buck instead.

And he loves being Eddie’s best friend. He’s so fucking lucky that Eddie picked him to be such a big part of his life. If that’s all it’s ever gonna be, Buck’s gonna find a way to live with it.

It’s just also gonna be hard as fuck, because Eddie is the kind of friend who, when Buck gets sleepy, maneuvers him down onto the couch but doesn’t get up to make room, and instead lets Buck rest his head on his lap.

He runs a gentle hand through Buck’s hair, massaging his throbbing head carefully, and Buck feels his eyes sting.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for being here.”

Eddie smiles down at him, eyes warm. “Anytime.”

Buck holds his gaze for a few long seconds, watching as Eddie’s smile slips a little and he blinks rapidly a few times before he catches himself again.

“You okay?” he asks. “If you have to go–”

“No,” Eddie says, clearing his throat. His fingers resume their movement against Buck’s scalp. “No, I’m good. Right where I’m supposed to be.”

When Buck wrestles his tired eyes back open a few minutes later, Eddie’s not looking at him anymore. He’s staring off into the middle distance, deep in thought.

Eddie is at Buck’s loft every day for the three days he wrestles his stupid cold. It’s usually just an hour or two, but it makes the entire ordeal much less terrible. After that, Buck returns to work and his regular daily life, spending at least two nights a week at the Diaz house, meeting Maddie for lunch or coffee and helping her and Chim with wedding planning wherever he can.

Everything is completely normal, until it’s not.

On a completely normal Wednesday, on the way back to the station after a completely normal call, Hen turns to Eddie with sparkling eyes and asks, “So how are things with Marisol? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.”

“Um,” Eddie says, looking caught out. He picks at some invisible lint on his pants and says, so quiet they can barely hear it through the headset, “We actually broke up a while back.”

“What?” Hen, Chimney and Bobby ask at the time, covering the fact that Buck can’t say anything at all.

“What happened?” Hen asks.

“I just realized it wasn’t gonna work,” Eddie shrugs. He’s still looking at his knees, alternating with Buck’s like they always do when they’re crammed into the engine, rather than any of them, and his face is getting more and more flushed. “That…I wanted something different.”

He lifts his head just enough to sneak a glance at Buck, who only notices because he’s still staring so intently. Their eyes meet and Buck feels frozen in the moment, caught in his hope and the paralyzing fear that he’s wrong and would ruin everything if he were to ask Eddie.

Then Eddie jerks his head away and Buck sucks in a breath like he’s been suffocating.

“Well, good on you for realizing,” Chimney says, and Eddie looks up to shoot him a crooked grin. His face is still pink.

“I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually,” Bobby adds, and Eddie looks down again, but not fast enough that Buck can’t see the little smile that’s on his face now.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I think so too.”

His knee presses against Buck’s a little harder, and stays there.

For the rest of the shift, Buck feels jittery and nervous. Eddie doesn’t approach him so he doesn’t either, but he can’t stop staring at him.

Eddie seems pretty normal, just doing his job and shooting the shit with Hen and Chimney like always, but every time he catches Buck staring, he gives him this small smile that’s just different enough from his normal smiles that Buck’s heart keeps skipping beats. This really can’t be healthy.

After the end of their shift, while Buck’s fighting to button his shirt up with shaky fingers, Eddie steps close to him and says, “Come home with me.”

Buck shivers, goosebumps erupting all over his skin, and misses his buttonhole again when he nods jerkily. “Yeah, sure, of course.”

Eddie’s definitely smirking now but his ears and cheeks are pink again, so at least Buck isn’t alone with his flaming face.

They take separate cars so Eddie makes it before Buck, and when Buck finally unlocks the front door, Eddie is nervously pacing the length of his living room.

He spins around to face Buck with slightly wild eyes, then crosses the room in three big strides, coming to a stop right in front of him.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he says, and then his hands are on Buck’s face, warm and gentle and safe.

Buck catches on a second before their lips meet, his own hands latching onto the back of Eddie’s shirt. It makes Eddie smile, and that makes their first kiss a slightly off-center, dry press of lips.

But then Buck spreads his hands out on Eddie’s back, pulling him closer, and Eddie uses his hold on his face to tilt his head just so, and suddenly it’s perfect.

“Not reading it wrong,” Buck breathes against Eddie’s lips what could be hours or minutes later, and Eddie laughs a little, tucking his face into Buck’s neck.

“I was really scared,” he admits, and Buck squeezes him, presses a kiss to the shell of his ear and the side of his head.

“Me too, I was so scared I got it wrong. That my hope was, like, making things seem a certain way–”

Eddie runs a hand through his hair, looking up so he can meet Buck’s eye.

“I didn’t even get it,” he says, disbelief coloring his words. “I was already so deep– When you were sick, I told you I was right where I wanted to be. And that was true in a way I didn’t even– I wasn’t aware of just how much I literally always want to be where you are. And then that made me realize some other things, and put them into perspective, so I talked to Marisol–”

“You can tell me about her later,” Buck interrupts, and Eddie laughs.

“Okay. Let me just– I love you. That’s what I realized. I’m in love with you, and have been for god knows how long.”

Buck kisses him, slow and mostly chaste, but he’s still breathless when he pulls back again.

“I love you, too,” he says, touching Eddie’s warm cheek with gentle fingers and watching the way his eyelashes flutter. “I’ll tell you the rest of it later, too. For now, can we just – do this?”

Eddie grins, then tilts his head to press a kiss to Buck’s palm. “Let’s move to the couch first, but then – yeah, we definitely can.”