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Let the record show that Eddie - contrary to popular belief - is actually very smart. So he may not have a college degree, and he might not be able to help Christopher with all of his math homework, but he’s street smart. He’s aware.
Most of the time.
Eddie’s packing up the rest of his things and chatting idly with Marjan. He glances around the makeshift camp to locate the rest of his team - they’re supposed to be leaving soon and Eddie doesn’t want to hang around any longer than necessary - and his eyes land on Buck, which.
It’s hardly a surprise, he’s pretty sure he and Buck gravitate around each other, like the earth and the sun, or something. They have the uncanny ability to find each other in every room they walk into.
This time he’s with TK, and Eddie can’t seem to drag his eyes away as his best friend laughs along to whatever TK is saying. It’s just, he’s not used to working without Buck by his side. He hadn’t thought much about rushing off with the strike team, until he was driving away with them and realised it meant Buck would be working with someone that wasn’t him.
And it’s not that he’s jealous, or whatever. It’s just. He’s supposed to have Buck’s back. Every single call they’ve ever been on, Buck has been right there on his heel, ready to risk it all for Eddie in the blink of an eye. And when Eddie had made it back to camp - Hen already missing after the helicopter crash - it was just a punch in the gut that Buck still wasn’t back.
The relief he felt when he saw Buck walking towards him was palpable, and he felt so, sickeningly guilty that he’d left him alone.
So he’s just glad that Buck is safe, really. Which is why he finds it hard to tear his eyes off him. If Buck had come home in anything less than perfect condition, he thinks Christopher might have killed him. And Maddie. And Bobby and Athena. And then himself, too. So really, it’s just self preservation.
“How long have you two been together?” Marjan asks, startling Eddie into turning away from Buck.
He frowns, and it takes a second for him to process the information before it properly clicks.
“Oh, we’ve been working together for like, three years now,” Eddie says, nodding as he finishes shoving the rest of his gear in his pack.
Marjan laughs, and it sounds sweet and bright through the very clear exhaustion they’re all feeling. She shakes her head at him like he’s a hopeless case.
“I mean how long have you been dating?” She clarifies.
Except it feels like the opposite of clarification, because now Eddie is painfully confused. He squints against the sun as he looks at her, a frown etched into the lines of his face, along with a days worth of filth and grime.
“Sorry, what?” He asks, almost choking in shock.
Marjan looks unsure as she gestures between him and Buck.
“You and Buck,” she says.
And suddenly, it feels like everything shifts. Like the whole world tilts on its axis, just a couple of degrees to the left, so everything looks the exact same but feels so, strikingly different.
Eddie is more than familiar with the effects of inhaling too much smoke, and he hadn’t realised he’d done it but he must have, because now he can’t breathe.
“We’re, um. We’re not - me and Buck, we’re. Not,” he stutters. “Dating. We’re not dating.”
She laughs at first, like it absolutely has to be a joke. But the more that Eddie just stares at her in complete confusion, the faster her expression changes - from amusement to surprise.
“Wait, seriously?”
And Eddie doesn’t - he doesn’t get it, because there’s no reason for her to think he and Buck are dating. They’re not. They don’t act like it. She’s barely even spent any time with the two of them together, so where has she possibly drawn that conclusion from?
“Yeah, no, we’re not, like, together together,” Eddie tells her.
But his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton as he speaks, and his head is all fuzzy. Because he’s looking at Buck again - can’t seem to stop even in a moment like this - and he’s laughing, and Eddie just. He feels rattled.
“Oh shit, sorry man,” Marjan laughs, then pats him on the back. “Well it was good to meet you, Hollywood. Maybe see you around some time.”
And then she’s gone, just walks away like she hasn’t thrown a massive spanner in the works, like she hasn’t made Eddie analyse every interaction he’s had with Buck since they’ve been here - since they’ve known each other.
“Chop chop Diaz, times a-wasting,” Hen calls out, trying to wave him over to the truck.
So he goes, his legs feeling a little bit like lead. And when he rounds the truck and sees Buck looking adorably confused, he has to shake his head a little to clear it.
Because Buck is his best friend, and the person he trusts most in this world, but that’s it. That’s all they’ve ever been. And he’s not going to let some stranger who barely knows them make him question that.
—————
About six hours into their twenty hour drive home, Eddie might be questioning it.
It’s not, like, a thing. Not really. It’s just, Buck is running his mouth a mile a minute like he always does, and Miller and Vasquez look like they’re about to rip their own ears off just for a moment of peace.
“How do you put up with this guy all the time?” Vasquez asks, and he’s only teasing, but something about it rubs Eddie the wrong way.
Because he doesn’t know Buck, not beyond a couple of shifts they’ve worked together, and they’re definitely not friends. And Eddie just doesn’t think it’s his place to make comments like that about Buck, especially not when he isn’t doing anything wrong.
In fact, Eddie likes listening to Buck ramble on. It’s almost always interesting, and even when it isn’t, Eddie finds that he doesn’t mind - he’s more than happy to listen as long as it keeps that excited little smile on Buck’s face.
And oh - okay. Maybe he kind of gets where Marjan is coming from with that. He’s seen Maddie smile and nod while Chim goes on about something no one else cares about. But it’s different with him, it’s not a relationship thing - it’s just a them thing. An Eddie-and-Buck thing.
So, whatever. It doesn’t mean anything. And if Eddie gives Vasquez the cold shoulder for the rest of the drive, well, it’s understandable, really. Especially given the way Buck closes off a little after that comment, lets his conversation fade out slowly and doesn’t really say much else for a while.
But Buck has too much energy fizzing inside of him to not let it out somehow. His usual method is talking up a storm, but now he’s basically silent so it has to come out in other ways. Namely, bouncing his leg up and down continuously for the past fifteen minutes. He’s seen Chim whack a rolled up magazine onto Buck’s knee to stop him doing that more times than he can count.
If it was anyone else doing it right now, Eddie would probably consider the same. But it’s not anyone, it’s Buck. So he shifts a little to his left and lets his thigh press against Buck’s - not a warning, or even a request, just a steady comfort to keep Buck grounded.
And the way Buck’s entire body seems to relax at the contact, the way his leg instantly stops shaking and he leans into Eddie. It’s. Yeah. It’s nice.
“You good?” Eddie asks, quiet so no one else hears.
Buck turns to him and smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good.”
So Eddie leans his head back and lets his eyes fall closed, and the warmth of Buck’s body next to his is what lulls him to sleep.
The next time he opens his eyes, it’s to the smell of bad coffee and someone tapping his cheek lightly. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know it’s Buck, because of course it is. But when he does, and sees Buck leaning over him with a dumb grin on his face, Eddie has to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards.
“What?” He asks, voice thick with sleep.
“We stopped for coffee. Here,” Buck explains, handing Eddie a cup.
“Thank you,” Eddie says after a mouthful.
And yeah, he was right, it’s definitely bad coffee. But it’s exactly the way Buck knows he likes it, and he almost wants to cry when Buck tosses something into his lap and it’s a bag of sour patch kids. Buck doesn’t even say anything about it, just opens a bottle of water and takes a drink without expecting a thanks.
“It’s my turn to drive,” Buck tells him as he’s climbing out of the truck.
Eddie nods, and without even thinking he stretches, then follows Buck out.
“I’ll sit up front with you,” Eddie says.
“You sure?” Buck asks, but his eyes are bright and he’s smiling, and Eddie could never say no to that face.
“Obviously,” he agrees, and he rolls his eyes at Hen when she gives him a very pointed look.
So yeah. Eddie is thinking about things.
When he looks over at Buck in the drivers seat, Eddie thinks about his life before him. How he was closed off and distrusting, and how he was sure he’d never feel settled no matter where he went. That nowhere would ever feel like home.
And then he thinks about what he has now - a home, with his son and with Buck, too, who’s a part of the Diaz family, so intrinsically linked that Eddie can’t imagine his life without Buck in it. He doesn’t want to imagine his life without Buck in it, because that happened once, during the lawsuit, and Eddie fell so far off the rails he forgot which way was up for a while.
So he’s looking at Buck, and it’s clear that he’s exhausted with the way he squints at the road signs in the dark. But god, he’s still so bright he’s almost blinding.
Buck is some kind of guiding light, the way he leads everyone forward but brings them all home, too. The way Eddie knows exactly where to go when he needs someone to turn to. The way he would find Buck in every single room, even if he wasn’t looking for him - but he’s always looking for him.
And then it all just sort of - clicks.
It’s not as overwhelming as he would have expected, it doesn’t steal his breath or make his head spin - doesn’t make his jaw drop or his heart race. It just is. And the second he realises, the moment he understands that of course he’s in love with Buck, it just feels right.
It’s not a big deal because it’s always been there, a steady thrum in his chest like a second heartbeat. Nothing feels different because nothing is different. He’s not sure of the exact moment that it happened - maybe there never was one, or maybe it was all of them. But Eddie has loved Buck all along, he just has a name for it now.
It’s the most gentle kind of revelation.
“What?” Buck asks, when he notices Eddie watching him.
He’s smiling even though they’re all tired and worn out, and Eddie feels a familiar tightness in his chest, an urge to just reach out and touch that he’s well acquainted with. Only now he gets why, and it feels so good to know that Eddie just has to smile back.
“Nothing,” he replies, but he doesn’t look away, not even when Buck laughs and shakes his head like Eddie is losing his mind.
—————
Eddie doesn’t plan on saying anything about how he feels.
There’s no shame in the way he loves Buck, and there aren’t any reservations either. It’s not like he worries that putting his feelings out there would ruin what they already have, because he knows it wouldn’t - knows they’re too solid to let anything damage them now. So it’s not even that he’s scared.
It’s more just the fact that, what they have now is enough. He looks at Buck - at home, at the station, on a call - and he loves him, and he wants him, but he already has him. And maybe it’s not in the way that Eddie would like, but it’s there, and it’s good.
The kind of love he feels for Buck doesn’t ever hurt, not even when Eddie watches him laughing with Christopher and thinks he’d like to keep this forever. Because he knows that Buck isn’t going anywhere. And Eddie’s love is so big for him, such a fundamental part of the person he is now, that having Evan just be his friend feels like more than enough, more than what he deserves, sometimes.
So he doesn’t plan on doing anything about it.
But the thing is, the better you understand yourself, the better you understand other people too.
So as time passes, Eddie starts to pick up on little things about Buck. Like the way his whole face lights up when he sees Eddie, and the way he somehow always manages to find a spot next to him, even if Buck has to usher someone else out of the way. Eddie notices how Buck is always first to volunteer to do something dangerous at work, just so Eddie doesn’t have to, and the way he remembers the tiniest of details that Eddie doesn’t even remember telling him.
And then one afternoon, at a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s house, Eddie catches Buck looking at him.
They’re across the room from each other, and Buck is playing with Chris and Denny while Eddie chats with Karen, but they find each other like they always do.
And Buck has looked at Eddie like that a thousand times - all warm and open and happy - but it’s the first time Eddie realises it for what it is. Because he knows it’s exactly the same way he looks at Buck, like the world could collapse around them and he wouldn’t even notice as long as Buck’s eyes stayed on him.
Then Buck smiles and turns back to the kids, but Eddie can’t look away, not now that he knows.
So a few nights later, Eddie doesn’t feel scared when he asks Buck to follow him home after their shift.
It’s late and they’re tired, but there had been a moment on that last call where, for a split second, he thought Buck was gone. And that was all it took for Eddie to make up his mind, because the thought of losing Buck, and the thought of Buck never knowing how much Eddie adores him, it was just too much.
Being Buck’s friend is enough - will always be enough - but Eddie knows that it doesn’t have to be anymore. So as soon as they’re through the door and it’s locked behind them, Eddie turns to face Buck, and he sees his future smiling back at him.
And he could give a big speech, or drag the whole thing out, but Eddie doesn’t think he needs to.
“I’m in love with you.”
The words feel light on his tongue. They’re so easy to say that he laughs a little afterward, just from the pure joy of having said them out loud. And Buck is smiling back at him, so soft and sweet that it brings tears to Eddie’s eyes.
“I know,” Buck says, “I was just waiting for you to figure it out.”
And Eddie laughs again, because he can’t believe he’s here in this moment - can’t believe anything could ever feel as good and right as this does.
“I love you too, for the record,” Buck says, walking towards Eddie.
He cups Eddie’s face with his hands, so achingly tender that Eddie can barely breathe. When his eyes finally meet Buck’s, that same look is in them - like the universe could collapse in on itself and neither of them would even notice.
“Sorry it took me a while to catch up,” Eddie whispers, his lips almost brushing against Buck’s.
“I think I can forgive you,” Buck says.
And then they’re kissing. And it feels like the biggest, easiest thing in the world, like every moment in his life was leading up to this one, like this is always where he was going to end up.
(He owes Marjan a thank you.)