Work Text:
***
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
***
1.
Had anyone asked him an hour ago, if being a handyman was a particularly transformative, life-fulfilling job, Buck would have laughed. On the ever-growing list of favourite gigs he’d picked up over the last few years, it didn’t even crack his top ten. But standing here in this homey little kitchen, lounging brazenly against a countertop, he had to admit the view, at least, wasn’t half bad.
“So, you see here,” the man was saying, voice slightly muffled from where he crouched on the tile, “I tried to mess with it, but the damn thing keeps leaking.”
Buck’s head was tilted to the side, listening intently, of course. “Hmm.”
The man was gorgeous, wiry and muscled under a thin maroon shirt rolled up to his elbows — as if he were the one about to get his hands dirty. But it was the jeans that were currently holding Buck’s attention, tightly stretched as they were over a pair of truly delicious thighs. He’d greeted Buck at the door with a brilliant smile and offered him a coffee for the trouble. “It’s the least I can do, considering what you’re charging,” he’d said, “Or, not charging. Which I really appreciate, by the way. It’s just me and Chris here — my son — and even with this new job, it’s— Well, anyway. I appreciate it. So, coffee?”
Buck himself, who admittedly lived mostly on sandwiches and gas station coffee these days, did alright for himself — I mean, really, it was impressive he managed to maintain the physique he had given his lack of formal living space — but this guy… He didn’t seem the type to need some nobody 26-year-old to fix a leaky sink, but he supposed everyone had to have their flaws.
And, yeah, Buck was charging next to nothing for this gig. It’d been hard to secure any jobs with regular rates given his lack of formal training. But honestly, most homeowners were equally clueless and happy to leave him to figure it out (aka, follow a YouTube tutorial) while they kicked their feet up and sipped wine on the couch. It was a mutually beneficial exchange between him and, for the most part, the bored housewives of Los Angeles.
And sure, sometimes those bored housewives were actually single, attractive women who strongly felt there were other things he could help them out with — upstairs, perhaps, in their bedrooms. Hell, sometimes those bored housewives were actually stupidly attractive, Latin, single (to be determined) fathers. Buck was an equal-opportunity kinda guy.
But, oh, the man was still talking. Something about the taps.
Buck nodded fervently, righting his head immediately as the man turned back. He was bracing his hands on those thighs and looking up at him expectantly. “So, what do you think?”
Buck fixed him with a confident smile. “I can fix that.”
He could probably fix that.
He could definitely give it a good try.
The trouble was, the man wasn’t leaving. He hovered nearby, smiling pleasantly at Buck, watching and waiting for him to do something.
Right. He swallowed thickly and dropped to his knees on the cool tiles. He rifled through his tool bag, feeling the weight of the man’s eyes on the side of his face. He’d done this sort of thing before, he ought to remember the basics.
A wrench would probably help. (The man was still just standing there.)
Buck cleared his throat. “Uh, how about that coffee?”
The man blinked. “Right.” He stood up straight and seemed to scoff at himself. “Cream? Sugar?”
Buck smiled, feeling immediately soothed now that he didn’t have a supervisor breathing down his neck. A stupidly attractive supervisor, but nonetheless. “Yes and yes, Mr.—?”
He met Buck’s gaze and shook his head. “Diaz. Mr. Diaz,” he said quickly. “Eddie.”
“There a, uh, Mrs. Diaz, Eddie?” Buck said, sticking his head under the sink to peer at the disaster zone. He really hoped he looked strong and capable right now.
Eddie was quiet long enough that Buck worried he wasn’t quite pulling it off. He looked back in time to see the complicated look shutter and be replaced by a soft smile. “Like I said. Just me and Chris.”
Buck grinned once again, mostly to himself. He listened to the groaning of the coffee maker as he fidgeted with the wrench in his hand.
"You been in the business long?" Eddie was saying. His voice was hesitant.
Buck's smile had gotten stuck. "Oh, ages.”
It had been three weeks.
Just last month, he’d auditioned to be a dancer at a nightclub downtown. (They’d said he had two left feet.) Before that, it was running deliveries for a local pizzeria, but that had left him both sad and hungry. Bartender, kids’ party clown, barista, couch surfer; he’d tried it all. Traveled to every city and coastline that held a small promise of opportunity.
In truth, he felt aimless. As he’d been since his sister Maddie had gifted him his freedom all those years ago. At the time, it had felt like a lifeline. Every mile he put between him and home filled him with new life and possibility. Every new place, every new person changed him, little by little. He liked to think if his family saw him now, they wouldn’t recognize him. But Buck had never been the lone wolf type — and heading out on the open road, just him and the jeep, could only sustain him for so long. He longed to be amongst people. Not just any people, but his people.
Buck cleared his throat. "What do you do, again?"
Eddie seemed to perk right up at the question. He looked different all of a sudden, proud and bashful. "I'm a firefighter with the LAFD. Tomorrow's my first day."
A firefighter. The day was just getting better and better.
Buck twisted his head around, giving the man a long, dragging look. He nodded. "Makes sense," was all he said.
He was being utterly obnoxious but found he didn't really care. If he couldn't figure this out soon, Mr. Diaz — Eddie — would be kicking him out to the curb momentarily. Might as well enjoy the company to its fullest while he was welcome.
Eddie's face stayed curiously blank. He turned away after a moment and busied himself with mixing their drinks. Yet Buck couldn't help but notice the way his hands shook as he stirred. Interesting.
Surely he was used to being hit on, looking like he did. Maybe he was shy? Or, more likely, straight.
Well, only one way to find out.
Buck stood, dusting off his pants like he'd been hard at work. He eagerly accepted the cup that Eddie offered, letting their fingers overlap in a move that wasn't entirely necessary. “I bet you’re gonna be real popular.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look at you. I’m sure the women of Los Angeles will be throwing themselves into danger just to be saved by you.” Buck grinned. “Not just the women, I’d imagine.”
Eddie huffed, taking a brief step back and decidedly out of Buck's space. "Don't you have a job to do?" he asked pointedly.
But Buck was still grinning, looking pleased with himself and utterly unaffected by Eddie's coolness. “You know, back in college they used to call me Firehose. I bet you'd know just how to handle—“
"I beg you not to finish that sentence."
"I was just going to say—“
"Please don't."
***
“You have to let me pay for this.”
“It’s…fine,” Eddie answered stiffly, swiping a hand down his face to clear the water from his eyes.
“Really, I don’t mind,” Buck said, moving nervously about the room as he talked. He grabbed a mop and used it to start to soak up the minor tsunami at their feet. “It’s completely my fault.”
“You know, I kinda thought basic plumbing was handyman 101,” Eddie said, frowning down at himself. He was dripping head to toe, clothes plastered to his skin rather unpleasantly.
“I, uh, yeah. Well, the thing is—“ Buck rambled, running a hand through his remarkably dry hair. He’d come out of their near-disaster pretty much unscathed. “You can sort of write whatever on those websites. You know? But I’m usually pretty good at this stuff, honestly, I-I don’t know what went wrong.”
“Right.”
“God, Eddie, I’m really sorry,” he continued, pausing his frantic cleaning to survey the damage he’d done. Forget all the plans he’d had to charm the pants off the hot single firefighter, he’d be lucky if the man didn’t slam the door in his face on his way out.
Eddie sighed, finally meeting his eyes again. “Evan, it’s fine, really. No damage done. Nothing permanent, anyway.”
Buck smiled weakly. “You can call me Buck.”
He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Buck?”
“Yeah,” he said, now with a curious eagerness. He went back to mopping. “Well, hey. We’re a great team under pressure.”
Eddie snorted. He carefully peeled the fabric sticking to his skin from his body and tossed it away. It hit the ground with a wet thunk and he grimaced. “Sure, Buck. Toss me that towel, would you?”
There was only silence.
Smoothing back his still-dripping hair, he looked up to see Buck staring.
He was holding a small towel, frozen in mid-motion with it hanging limply from one hand. There was an odd, blank sort of look on his face. If it weren’t for the way his chest rose and fell in quick succession, Eddie might have felt the need to check his pulse.
Still, he looked a bit white in the face. He might check it anyway.
“Earth to Buckley. You alright?”
“Do all firefighters look like you?” Buck said, after another curious pause. “I think I’m in the wrong profession.”
In disbelief, Eddie huffed out a laugh. “No kidding.”
2.
Eddie doesn’t plan to see Evan Buckley again. Mainly due to the fact that the plumbing had just barely recovered from his first visit. Finding his online ad had seemed like a small miracle at the time, broke as he was after having just moved across the country with an eight year old. Unfortunately, as he’d soon discovered, “Buck” was a handyman in the same way Eddie was a dancer. As in, not at all, but he’d put on a show with the right motivation.
But it wasn’t just the near-flooding that had left an impression. He still remembered the way the man had leaned against the doorframe, tool belt slung low on his baggy pants. Eddie could still feel the heat in his cheeks, remembering the way he’d stared after him as he walked backward down the drive. Their eyes had held for so long. He still saw that insufferable grin when he closed his eyes some nights.
There was no reason to call him again. No reason to still have his number saved (under Firehose Buck).
Then the air con had broken in the middle of August and, well, there was only so much frozen popsicles and portable fans could do. Cue Evan Buckley on his doorstep, clad in just a loose frat boy-esque tank and shorts. He looked like he belonged on a beach somewhere, catching waves and lotioning up some bikini-clad model type. But he was here instead, beaming at the pair of them like he had nowhere better to be than in Eddie’s million-degree house on a Saturday morning.
“Hey.”
“Uh, hi.” His brain stalled for a moment, restarted only by the nudging of Chris as he made his presence known at Eddie’s elbow. “Right, sorry — this is my son.”
“Don’t be sorry. I, uh, I love kids.”
Eddie smiled softly. He ran his hand over Chris’ head, messing up the curls. “I love this one.”
Chris made a face at him, pushing him off halfheartedly. He then turned to their visitor. “I’m Chris,” he said, shoving out his hand for Buck to shake. Which he did, enthusiastically.
“Evan,” he said, and he was bending to Chris’ level. “But you can call me Buck.”
Chris quirked an eyebrow. “Why do people call you Buck?”
“Well, when I was in school, there were three other Evans in my class,” he said, punctuating his words with three fingers and a scrunched up nose. Chris was already smiling. “So people started to call me by my last name. But Buckley is kind of a mouthful when you’re a kid I guess, so eventually I just became Buck.”
Chris squinted at him. “Evan doesn’t really suit you anyway,” he said matter of factly.
Buck grinned. “I couldn’t agree more, kid.”
He straightened again, meeting Eddie’s gaze with a happy gleam in his eye that seemed to say, I did good, didn’t I? Eddie ignored the look and shooed Chris down the hall to his bedroom. He went reluctantly.
When he turned back, Buck was still hovering uncertainly in the doorway. It was so unlike the easy confidence he’d had the first time that it struck Eddie for a moment. Perhaps Buck had since developed a healthy amount of guilt and embarrassment over causing a minor flood in their kitchen.
“Shall we?” he asked, already moving.
Buck followed behind him at a curious distance, tugging on his shirt as he went. “God, you weren’t kidding,” he said. “It is like a sauna in here.”
Eddie snorted. “Welcome to my life for the last week. The heat wave struck and all hell broke loose.“
“Damn.” They’d reached the back of the house. “Work must be crazy.”
“Don’t get me started, I feel like I’m dead on my feet. It's been non-stop. Yesterday I took Chris to the frozen section of the grocery store just to get some relief.”
“Well now I feel like a jerk. All alone in my huge apartment with central AC. If only I’d known.” He grinned and there it was. That twinkle of something in his eye. Eddie had been waiting for it.
He rolled his eyes. “All alone, huh? Is this the part where you try to lure me back to yours?”
Buck’s smile seemed to freeze in place. “No, I — uh, I don’t —“
Eddie’s brows creased as he frowned. “Sorry. I was just joking, Buck, honestly.”
But Buck, ever the confident Casanova, appeared to be having an internal crisis of sorts. “It’s just — I met someone.” His eyes met Eddie’s once again and they were huge. Eddie swallowed audibly. Ah. So there it is. “She’s great. So smart and — she’s really got her life together, you know? I want to be like that too. She makes me want to be better. I don’t want to be a dumb kid anymore. I want to be, like…” His brows scrunched as he thought. “Like Buck 2.0. I’m so sick of being Buck 1.0.”
“What are you, a software update?” Eddie said around an amused smile. He kicked himself a little for the way the eager, animated look in Buck’s eyes wilted just so.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I wanna be different. No more meaningless hookups. I want something real.” Then he grinned at Eddie, almost bashful. “So no need to brace yourself, I’m not planning on seducing you anymore.”
“Good to know,” Eddie said, forcing every bit of sarcasm and derision he could possibly fit into each syllable. He cleared his throat, indicating the storage room that housed all the electrical bits that he could make heads nor tails of. “Couldn’t possibly have anything to do with you being a professional that I’m hiring to do a job? Do you even know anything about electrical?”
Buck scoffed, nudging him aside. “Please, Eddie. What don’t I know about electrical?”
“That… doesn’t answer my question,” he said, sighing deeply. But Buck didn’t appear to hear.
“Consider me a Jack of all trades. Electrical, plumbing, yard work, erotic back massages. You name it, I’m your guy. I’ll have this bad boy up and running in no time.”
“Right,” Eddie mused. “Where did you train again? Air Conditioner Repair For Dummies?”
Buck tossed back another smile. “Dad jokes look good on you. That was absolutely terrible.”
Eddie dragged a hand through his thick hair, pushing the sweaty locks away. It was getting long again. Chris had been teasing him about it. They had a father-son barber shop day planned for next week, but the heat had him eyeing the scissors in the kitchen drawer on a daily basis. “But, really this time,” he said, “we kind of need this to be fixed, like, yesterday. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
And Buck was quiet for a moment. He seemed to note the air of desperation in Eddie’s voice.
“I can fix that. No sweat.” His eyes darted to Eddie and the progressively damp tank he wore. “Possibly a little sweat.”
Eddie slumped against the nearest wall to watch him work. He wasn’t confident that, in an hour, he’d be any cooler than before, but… truth be told, he didn’t mind the company. The only people he saw outside of Chris — and, when he couldn’t avoid it, his family — were his coworkers. Buck wasn’t bad company, shameless flirting aside. He was… absurd and funny and full of life. He had a sort of infectious energy that had Eddie laughing more than he had in, well, years really. He was smarter than he looked with a wealth of knowledge of anything and everything that was absolutely useless to know in any real practical sense, but Eddie listened intently to every little fun fact. Truthfully, he was unlike anyone Eddie had ever met.
And he wasn't too proud to admit that Buck being a taken man made things a bit simpler. Easier. He wanted to tell him about Shannon, too. How her being back had made their little family feel whole again. How grounded he'd felt ever since. He still wasn’t entirely sure he liked the feeling, but he’d keep that part to himself. Buck was still effectively a stranger, after all.
***
“Have you considered a career change?” Eddie asked a few hours later, settling into a lawn chair in the backyard. “You’re really bad at this.”
“Please,” Buck scoffed. He was all long limbs, stretched out on a matching chair to Eddie’s left. He was currently using the cold beer in his hands as an icepack. “I’ve almost cracked it.”
“Sure?” Eddie replied tonelessly. “I hear the burger joint down the street is hiring. Free food, always a plus.”
Buck’s head rolled to face his, cheek pressed into his chair. He looked young suddenly, eyes full of mischief. “But where else could I find such sparkling company?”
“I’m calling a real handyman.”
He sat up abruptly. “Eduardo Diaz, don’t you dare.”
“Googling repair companies in my area as we speak. And that’s not my name.”
“Edward?”
“Ha. No.”
“Edmundo?”
“Don’t.”
“I knew it.”
“It took you three tries. Shut up, it’s ringing.”
Eddie glared as the phone was plucked from his hands and tossed onto the grass behind them.
“I’m all you need, baby.”
“Like a thorn in my side.”
3.
It was evening by the time he heard a knock at the side door. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table for a while, ruminating over his own impulse decision to invite Buck over — again.
It was just that this went beyond leaky taps and shoddy electrical repair work. How could he explain the holes littering his bedroom wall? The broken lamp, the torn blinds? How could he explain where his son had gone? The memory of Christopher’s scared little voice and tiny fists banging on the door. He’d heard it as if from a distance, nothing louder than the memory of Shannon lying on warm concrete, her soft hair between his fingers. Yet another life he hadn’t saved. Add it to the list, he’d thought.
Eddie couldn’t blame him for making the call, or even for staying away for the past week.
Six months. Six months since Shannon and Josephina had suggested he reach out to his old army buddies. To catch up, she’d said. But he knew it was her subtle way of telling him he was falling apart and it was starting to show. For her and for Chris, he’d done it. He imagined his aunt had pictured the group of them meeting up for coffee, maybe drinks, reminiscing about the good ol' days of gunfire and senseless tragedy. It was a nice thought.
They were all gone, every single one.
He hadn’t saved anyone.
A hero, they’d called him. Given him a Silver Star for it and everything. He hadn’t saved a single one.
But she couldn’t have predicted that. Couldn’t have predicted the way Eddie had burned inside at the news, or what he chose to do with the feeling.
This was real. This was ugly. Buck would likely take one look at the hideous manifestation of Eddie’s brokenness and hightail it right out of this house. Eddie wouldn’t blame him in the slightest, like he hadn’t blamed them. He shouldn’t have called.
Still, he stood and answered the door.
“Eddie,” Buck said, standing there on the doorstep, shuffling his feet. He looked unsure in a way he never had before. Perhaps he’d picked up on Eddie’s mood even over the phone.
“Hi,” he said, voice quiet. He stepped aside and felt the brush of Buck’s shoulder as he passed.
Every instinct that had been drilled into him since birth begged him to plaster a smile on his face, to offer Buck a drink and laugh about the mess that was the state of his bedroom. Spin some wild story about burglars ransacking the place, maybe. He could picture it, the awkward smile that meant he wasn’t quite believed. Eddie was sure somehow that Buck would accept whatever half-truth he gave and stay. But he couldn’t. The smile wouldn’t come.
Buck stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak.
His eyes blinked closed for a moment too long, breathing deeply. How to explain the cataclysmic mess that was his home, his life? How to let go of the mask and lay himself bare for judgement when it went so against his nature?
He opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again, turning on his heel and leading Buck wordlessly to the source of his shame. The house was so quiet.
“I-Is everything alright? I came as quick as I could,” Buck said, following closely behind.
Eddie couldn’t answer. He stopped at the door to his bedroom, hand gripping the doorknob. He was impatient now, needing it to be over with. “In here,” he said, shoving the door open and ushering him in.
He stood at the foot of his bed, arms folded, watching Buck take in the damage with wide eyes. The fist-shaped holes. The disarray. The violence of it all.
Their eyes met and held. “What… What happened?” Buck said, voice hushed.
At that, Eddie’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I happened,” he said, scratching idly at his jaw. “Scared my kid half to death. He’s staying with my aunt for a few days. I’d like to fix it before he comes back, you know, so he doesn’t have to… Anyway, I bought the paint.”
He gestured to the small pile of goods he’d prepared for the occasion at Buck’s feet. But the man was still staring slack-jawed at the wall.
“Eddie, this is…” he began, brows scrunched low. “I…”
“Come on,” Eddie said, trying for casual. “Don’t tell me you’ve never plastered a wall before. It’ll be a couple hours, tops.”
But Buck refused to stop watching him with that searching gaze, like he could somehow peel back all the layers of Eddie Diaz and get to the ugly, destructive, messy inside bits if he just looked hard enough. He didn’t look judgemental or afraid — even worse, he looked worried. Like Eddie was suddenly a fragile thing that Buck needed to fix. He was a bull in a China shop on the best of days, but tonight he walked on eggshells. The glaring difference was sobering.
“What happened, Eddie?” he asked once more, hushed still.
It’s just that Eddie wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of gentle care. He was the provider, the protector. A shit one, on occasion, but his role was always clear. Being on the other side felt foreign and uncomfortable. Talking about himself, the inner workings of his mind, was unimaginable.
He tried anyway. For Chris.
Perhaps, a little, for himself too.
“You know, I joined the fire department to help people. Save lives. After the army, I wasn’t really sure what to do with myself. So I thought, firefighter. I’m pretty damn good at it too. I’ve… scaled buildings and clawed my way out of the literal ground during a storm to save people and still I—“ He swallowed and the sound was audible. “Still it didn’t matter in the end.”
Buck took a step forward, hand lifting as if to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. But were they there yet? Eddie had never felt closer, or further away. Either way, in this moment, he didn’t feel like someone you could just reach out and touch so casually.
“I’m no hero,” he continued on, lips parted in an empty smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He laughed. “That’s what they called me when I got sent back. But they were wrong.” He paused, breathing shakily. “Four people. Four people I pulled out of that plane, and not a single one of us made it. Some hero.”
Eddie slumped back against the ruined wall behind him, defeated. He sighed.
“I’m sorry, that must be…” Buck shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know the story, couldn’t speak to what it was like to be miles and miles away from home and responsible for making sure everyone made it home alive, the burden of being the last one standing when they didn’t.
Not a single one of us made it, Eddie had said, including himself perhaps unconsciously.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
“Well I don’t know about all that other stuff,” Buck started, finally moving, settling himself close to Eddie’s side. He indicated the wall at their backs. “But I can fix that.”
Eddie turned to meet Buck’s gaze and suddenly they were a few short breaths apart. Buck blinked and still he was there, so close. He could see the red rimming Eddie’s eyes, the unspilled tears he was using every ounce of strength he possessed to hold back.
His voice quieted. “Then maybe I can work on the rest. I’ve been told my presence is sort of life-changing.”
There it was, an inkling of something. A real smile maybe, or at least the start of one. It left Eddie’s eyes before it could become anything.
They were quiet a long time.
“I’m scared,” he admitted suddenly, breaking the spell. Something real. Honest.
“Of what?”
“Never feeling normal again.”
***
Predictably, it took more than just a couple of hours. By midnight, they’d managed to make decent progress, but the room was still in disarray.
Eddie felt strangely young, huddled around a pizza box on his bedroom floor. There was still so much to do but the task didn’t feel quite so overwhelming anymore, having someone here to shoulder the burden with. Buck was good at that, making things feel lighter.
“Thank you,” he said, brushing his pants off, as if they weren’t already covered in paint spatter. “I know it’s not in your job description, really.”
“Everything is in my job description, Diaz.”
Eddie smiled absently. “It’s getting late,” he said. “You should get going. I can finish this up myself another day.”
But Buck waved him off. “I’m no quitter. Let’s get this done.”
“Buck…”
“Eddie. Seriously. I’m not going anywhere, so save the macho lone wolf routine.”
“I distinctly remember hiring you for a service. When did this become a hostage situation?”
“Friendship, Eddie. You’re describing friendship.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m not charging you for fixing a few holes while your kid is missing. It’s what friends do. You’d know that if you ever talked to anyone outside of work.”
“I talk to—“ Buck shot him a look. “Fine. If I admit we’re friends, then will you leave?”
“No.”
“Did I mention Bobby is married to a cop? I could report you for trespassing.”
Buck shrugged, unbothered. “You could try. Older women love me.”
“I think you overestimate your charm.”
“And I think you underestimate how much I love to argue. Look, I know you want to fix this place up before Christopher comes back—“
“I don’t even know if—“
“He’s coming back, Eddie,” Buck said firmly. “And when he does, the only thing you’ll have to focus on is your kid.”
Eddie was silent once again.
“Thank you,” he said eventually, squeezing his hands into fists. They were still scraped and raw from the day before.
Buck patted his knee. “Sure, buddy,” he said.
Eddie rolled his eyes and stood, Buck joining him shortly after. His new… friend, he supposed. Together they surveyed their work in companionable silence.
Nothing would be right until Chris came home, but for the first time in a long time, he had someone to carry half the weight he’d been buckling under. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had two feet under him. But he had to remind himself it wouldn’t be this way forever.
Buck was happy to be here for now — he thrived, of course, on feeling useful and needed — but there would come a day when he was needed more elsewhere. Someday soon he’d be swept up in some grand romance befitting him and Eddie would need to learn to stand on his own all over again.
But standing there, pressed shoulder to shoulder, he thought it might not be so bad, getting used to this. Even if it couldn’t be forever.
4.
“Thanks for coming over,” Eddie said as he led Buck through to the living room.
“Don’t mention it,” Buck said. “Really. I wish you’d told me you got shot, like actual bullet-through-bone shot. I could’ve, I dunno, made you soup or something.”
Eddie snorted. “Can you even cook?”
“I… can follow a recipe, alright? It’s not that hard,” he grumbled, shuffling quickly past to hold the door for Eddie, who struck him with an unimpressed look.
“You should meet Bobby,” he said, nudging boxes of Christmas decor out of their path with his foot. “He’s always looking for someone to be his apprentice in the kitchen.”
“I keep waiting for you to invite me to the firehouse. If I hear Cap made the most delicious chocolate chip muffins today one more time, I swear I’m inviting myself. Maybe one of the paramedics will take pity on me.”
“You’d have better luck with the probies. Might even get one of them to fall for your whole Casanova schtick. I’m sure you’d get a muffin or two out of that.”
“Ha. Speaking of your wretched and cruel coworkers, I’m surprised they’re not here fluffing your pillows and making you tea.”
Eddie smiled. “I probably could’ve asked someone from the team but uh— I guess I was embarrassed.”
“Not too embarrassed to ask me?”
Eddie laughed at that. “The first day we met you called yourself Firehose and tried to have your wicked way with me in my kitchen.” He scoffed. “So no. No, I wasn’t embarrassed.”
“I was a different man back then.”
“Buck 1.0, yes I remember.”
“I could still have my wicked way with you,“ Buck added, almost as an afterthought. “I’d just do it with a little more, y’know, romance and chivalry this time. And I’d leave out the whole lying on my resume bit — breaking the plumbing in your new house didn’t win me any favours.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, turning away but not so quickly that Buck missed the delightful flush that spread across his cheeks. “I suppose I don’t have any say in this.”
“Well, I can hardly seduce you all on my own. Dual participation is kind of a requirement,” he said, then paused with a slight smirk before adding, “In case you’ve forgotten how it works.”
Eddie, deciding to ignore him, gestured to the box lying at their feet. "So? Are we doing this or what? We've got about three hours to turn this place into Santa's workshop before Chris gets home or I'll never hear the end of it. I already messed up the gingerbread house, so I'm basically Scrooge."
Buck was frowning. “What about that girl you've been seeing? The teacher? Don't you wanna do all this holiday stuff with her?" he said, pushing Eddie’s hands away as he struggled to lift anything one-handed.
“No, we, uh—“ He stepped back. “We broke up. I… broke up with her.”
“Oh.” Buck dropped a pile of tinsel. “Right. Sorry. That sucks.”
Eddie shrugged. “Chris is kind of bummed about it. I think it’s bringing up some stuff about his mom. Probably why he’s been all militant about the holidays this year.”
Buck gave him a sympathetic half-smile. “Hey, I’m sure he’ll love it no matter what. He’s a good kid. He just — I’m sure he misses her. It must be hard this time of year.”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, dropping his gaze. “The happiest time of the year, my ass.”
Buck chuckled, returning to his task. They sat in companionable silence for a minute.
“What about you?“
“What about me?” Buck said, a smile teasing his lips.
“You haven’t talked about anyone since Natalia.” He’s not looking at Buck but staring intensely at the string of garland in his hands (the popcorn to cranberry ratio is very important.)
“Yeah, I guess it has been a while,” Buck mused. “But I have been seeing someone. It’s new but, uh, I like him.”
Eddie glanced over, catching the shy smile on his face. He looked away again.
“Hey, he’s a firefighter too. Maybe I’ve got a type,” he teased, snagging a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Eddie’s lap. He winked.
“Why do I keep you around?” he asked, frowning grandly. “And don’t say for your pretty face.”
Buck chucked a piece of popcorn at the side of his head. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me pretty.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Impossible,” Buck said. Then he looked at the garland in Eddie’s hands and scoffed. “You’re doing it all wrong. Give me that.”
Eddie sighed. “Everyone’s a critic.”
“The ratio is all off,” he said seemingly to himself. Eddie pursed his lips, fighting a fond smile. “I can fix that.”
5.
A quick rap on the door was all the warning he got before a tall, lumbering man burst through into the dark kitchen. He scanned the room quickly, eyes wild.
“Hey,” Eddie said, voice raspy and pathetic-sounding to his own ears. He cringed.
Buck seemed relieved to hear his voice. “Hi,” he said, out of breath.
“You know you didn’t have to come.”
“Like hell I didn’t,” Buck said, frowning deeply. He made his way over to where Eddie stood, looking him up and down as if to check him for visible injuries. It reminded him of the team in a strange way, looking each other over after a tough call. The care in that. The unspoken affection that came as natural as breathing.
He didn’t know what to say.
“You look like hell, Eddie,” Buck said when the silence held too long. “Don’t tell me you’re fine this time. I can’t hear that right now.”
“Okay,” he said simply, and shrugged. “I’m not fine.”
“Okay,” Buck replied, eyes blown wide. Possibly due to the shock of hearing Eddie so readily admit it. “Okay. That’s— Okay.”
He crowded Eddie then, foregoing all sense of personal space. His hands hovered in the air, unsure, before settling on Eddie’s shoulders. They quickly became an anchoring weight. He appeared to be trying to shove down his own panic, trying for a reassuring expression.
Eddie couldn’t feel the tear trickle down, but the palm Buck laid against his cheek to stop the flow of tears — Yeah, he could feel that. "Whoa, hey, hey, hey," he said softly, and Eddie wished his eyes weren't so blurry that he could see what Buck's eyes looked like this close. "Hey. I can fix that."
He held a case of beer in his other hand, an earnest smile on his lips. Eddie huffed out a laugh.
They eventually stopped hovering in the doorway long enough to make it the few daunting steps to the living room. Buck swallowed hard at the sight of the couch, where Eddie had seemingly been sitting in the dark with not even the sound of the TV to distract him from whatever mental spiral he was going down. He moved about the room with frantic hands, flipping on light switches and tidying as he went. He replaced dirty dishes with cold beer on the coffee table, pushing a bottle into Eddie’s hands and Eddie onto the couch behind him.
He was just sort of sitting there quietly, staring at the label.
After a few minutes, there was nothing left to do, at least nothing that didn’t feel like an overstep. They were friends now. The sort of friends that texted all the time and met up for drinks on their off days. (Or, Eddie’s off days, really. Buck was still working on the whole career permanence thing.) He’d even been invited to family movie night, which meant more to him than he was prepared to admit. But this was new territory.
He switched the TV on, but the news was playing and that felt too depressing. He switched through channels, looking for… He didn’t know what. Something less heavy, maybe.
Sighing, Eddie tugged him down next to him. Buck sat. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, Buck,” he said. “Just… relax, would you? I’m not gonna cry onto your nice sweater anymore, it’s okay.”
“It’d be fine if you did though,” Buck replied eagerly. “Just, like, let it out, you know?”
That got him a smile, at least. A watery, profoundly miserable sort of smile but still. “Buck, I’m fine. Really. This, is just…” He trailed off, gesturing noncommittally. “But I’m good. Momentary freak out, it happens.”
“Does it?” Buck leaned forward, brows deeply furrowed. “I mean, Eddie, you were really panicking on the phone. I thought something really bad—“
“I don’t panic,” Eddie quickly interrupted. “That was just — Like I said, momentary freak out. Let’s just forget about it.”
“Well,” Buck huffed, in blatant disagreement, “what was it about? I mean, is everything alright? Is Chris— Or Marisol? Or someone at work?”
Eddie shook his head. “Marisol… God, I really messed that one up. But no, it’s not any of that. It’s not anything, Buck, because I’m fine. Everything is—“
“Fine, yeah, I got it. Are we really back to that?” he replied, steadily losing patience. “People who are fine don’t call their best friend at three in the morning during a panic attack, Eddie.”
“Upgraded yourself to best friend? Bit presumptuous of you.”
He was stalling. Half-heartedly trying to draw Buck’s attention away from the thing that he couldn’t seem to face. It was hurting Buck, he could see that. Him and everyone else. But it was hard to break a habit, least of all one forged in childhood.
“Eddie, please. Tell me something.”
His eyes fluttered shut. Tell me something, as if it was so easy to bare your soul and all its ugly scars.
“Chris left with my parents last night. Maybe for good this time.” He huffed out a laugh and his eyes were shiny when they reopened. “I really messed up. Again.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“There’s this woman…” he began, voice quiet. His lips pressed together, turning white with the need to keep this all unspoken. To keep Buck sitting here with that quietly affectionate look, not wanting to see it turn to disgust. As it surely would.
His head tilted, confused. “A woman.”
“Kim,” he admitted. “Her name is Kim.”
“Not Marisol,” Buck said, still with that puzzled expression like he was still trying to put the pieces together in his head but they didn’t quite match up.
“No.” He buried his head in his hands.
“So… you were having an affair,” Buck said.
He looked up abruptly. “No! No. It wasn’t… like that. I know what it sounds like. But I saw her, at a shop in town and I just — Buck, if you could just see her, you’d understand.”
Buck nodded, brows furrowed. “I’m sure she’s beautiful or whatever, but Eddie, is it really worth—“
“No,” Eddie said, groaning in frustration. At himself mostly, at his telenovela of a life. “Listen. Please. For a minute. And then I promise you can judge me as harshly as I probably, definitely still deserve. But first listen.”
“Okay,” Buck said, easily, effortlessly.
“Okay.”
“So tell me what happened,” Buck said, head hunched down slightly so that he could look Eddie in the eye.
***
“Right. So. I guess it really is that bad.”
“I’m afraid I’m really losing it.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Buck said quietly. “You’re allowed to mess up. Doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. Or crazy.”
“I think it might,” Eddie said, shrugging like it was nothing. He shrank in on himself then, the tears suddenly overflowing.
Buck didn’t hesitate. Eddie was immediately surrounded by unruly curls and the bright, infectious scent of summer. He wasn’t used to being… embraced. His mother was never much of a hugger, his father was… his father. No one had ever really held him like this, like they were desperate to keep all of the fractured pieces of him together. Buck hugged like someone who knew what he was doing.
He squeezed back, tucking his face into the crook of Buck’s shoulder. He buried any embarrassment he felt there, letting the now-familiar scent soothe his nerves.
They stayed like that for a long while, perhaps too long. The tears kept flowing and, with every small hitch in his breathing, Buck squeezed as if to remind him he was there. As if, wrapped up in his huge arms, he could somehow forget. And Buck really was absurdly large these days. He was, both mentally and physically, an evolved version of the aimless not-quite-adult he’d been when they’d first met. The change looked good on him.
“It is a nice sweater,” Eddie said when he eventually sat back, sniffling.
“It’s stolen, technically,” Buck admitted. He refused to pull away completely. “The pilot I told you about? Yeah, he dumped me. Figured I should get something out of it.”
“Hmm,” Eddie replied, zeroed in on the feeling of their shoulders all pressed together. “It’s not that nice.”
Buck rolled his eyes. “You never liked him.”
“He flew you to Vegas in a helicopter for your first date. Who does that?”
“Cool people,” Buck answered, slouching further down into the cushions. He looked wistful. “Insanely hot, cool people.”
It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. “So what went wrong this time?”
Buck shot him a look.
“I mean, what did he do?”
“As it turns out, it was maybe my fault this time. Depending on how you look at it.”
“And in the factual, literal sense?”
He scrunched one eye closed. “Still possibly my fault.”
“Could be worse. I, for one, am glad I never have to hear about how insanely cool he is ever again. I’m not sure who wanted to date him more, Chim was nearly as obsessed as you.”
“Uh, okay, this is where I draw the line. He’s already dating my sister.”
“Engaged,” Eddie corrected, giving him a proud look. “You’re welcome for that.”
Ah, yes, matchmaker Eddie. How could he forget? If Chimney and his sister weren’t so insufferably perfect together, he might have regretted asking for their help with Maddie’s move. Still, they’d had extensive debates over who would take credit for their meet-cute at the wedding.
“And technically, he met Tommy first. Personally, I never got the appeal.”
Buck’s smile was soft, indulgent. “You said the same thing when I ended things with Natalia. And Taylor, and Ali, and—”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s something you should look inward about. I can’t be held responsible for your poor taste.”
His smile grew. “Or you just like it better when it’s you I’m fawning over.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He paused, then shrugged. “Who knows, maybe I am jealous.”
Buck went curiously still. “Jealous?”
“You might not always pick the right people, but you know what you want. You’ve got all this love to give, just… nowhere to put it. It’s only a matter of time before…” He trailed off, meeting Buck’s eyes. Buck, who was listening with rapt attention, gazed back.
They’d been keeping each other at a careful distance all this time, close but not too close. And yet still, he’d never felt more realized than under Eddie’s quiet scrutiny. Never more understood or seen. He watched with absolute focus as the man’s face slackened, lips parting.
Then he looked away and let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“C’mon,” Eddie said. “You’re the guy who likes to fix things. Think you can fix me?”
Buck was silent a long moment. Too long. “I could try,” he said, oh so quiet.
Eddie swallowed at that. “Yeah? Not too much of a lost cause?”
His lips lifted just so. "Hardly."
Eddie's gaze fell to the ground. "Might take a while. I'm sure you've got better things to do."
At that, Buck burst out laughing. "You know me by now. I really, really don't." His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Besides, I think of it more as community service. Sparing the women of LA from your madness one beer at a time."
Eddie rolled his eyes. "I think it'll take more than cheap beer to fix whatever I've got going on, but I appreciate the effort."
Buck sighed. "You're just a guy, Eddie," he said, voice once again bleeding sincerity. "You're not, like, Mother Teresa, sure. But you're not the devil either. You... messed up with Marisol and maybe hurt Chris a little too in the process, but they're gonna be fine. You learn from it and try to be better for the next one."
"I don't think there's gonna be a next one."
His brow scrunched thoughtfully. "I mean, sure, she seemed great but you never made it seem like she was the one or something."
"No, I—“ Eddie sighed. "I mean I'm done. I'm tapping out of the dating game."
"H-hey, Eddie," Buck said, smiling weakly. "Don't punish yourself over this. You weren't right for each other, but someone out there will—“
"Buck, I'm serious," Eddie insisted, holding the neck of his beer loosely. "Honestly, it's a relief, not trying anymore. The thought of not having to do all of this again, not having to... perform, to say and do and be all the right things." He was smiling sort of absently. "I'm... happy."
"I mean, relationships should be easy. Not all the time, maybe, but it should feel... you know, natural. Comfortable."
"You know what's easy?" Eddie said, nudging Buck's arm as he settled more comfortably on the couch. "Having beers with a friend on my couch." He drank, face turned to the TV but his eyes were unfocused. "Face it, Buckley, I'm a lost cause. It'll be the three of us sitting right here till we're old and grey, and you know what, that's starting to sound pretty good to me."
He pretended not to feel the weight of Buck's eyes on the side of his face. They stayed silent until Buck seemingly gave up and joined him in not watching whatever old movie was playing on the screen.
+1
It happened, as important moments between them always seemed to, in a kitchen. The very same kitchen where it began, in fact. Buck had flashing images in his mind of standing outside with a boom box, or reciting a love letter, or writing the words into the sky. Whatever he did, he figured it ought to be grand and dazzling, something tangible, like the enormity of the feeling bursting inside of his chest with every step closer to this house.
But standing on the doorstep of the man he now knew more deeply and completely than the back of his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. They were more than grand gestures and flowery words. They were more than stolen rom-com plots. This was real.
So he settled for simply telling the truth.
“I don’t think you’re a lost cause.”
“Buck, what—“
“I don’t think you’re a lost cause. I think you’re amazing, actually. I think maybe I’ve known that for a long time, years probably, but I didn’t want to mess up this thing we have. And I’m so grateful for it, Eddie, honestly, I’d be happy with this for the rest of my life if it’s all I could have. But I… I’m trying this new thing where I don’t give up before I’ve even tried,” he rambled, seemingly to himself, “So, here I am.”
“Here you are,” Eddie agreed. “Buck, what is going on?”
“Right, I should explain that maybe.”
“I haven’t heard from you in weeks. Chris has been asking about you.”
“I’m sorry,” Buck said, finally taking a step inside. The door slammed shut behind him and he flinched. “I can explain that.”
“Alright?” Eddie said, utterly lost. His hands were splayed out in a sort of helpless gesture. Seeing him up close, he looked… tired. Sad and confused and so very tired. The weeks they’d spent apart hadn’t done him well at all. The thought made a small pit of guilt form in Buck’s stomach.
His eyes seemed to take in Eddie’s face like he was seeing it for the first time, or the last. It set Eddie’s pulse racing. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
Ignoring the spike in his blood pressure, he started walking toward the living room. “It took you weeks to come up with that one?” he said, rolling his eyes. “Bit tame, for you.”
“Eddie, I’m serious.” He kept going. “Eddie, listen.”
He stopped, face still turned away. “You listen, Buck. I’m tired, okay? It’s been a rough few days. It’s the middle of the night, Chris is asleep. We can talk about this later.”
“No,” Buck insisted, suddenly gripping Eddie by the shoulder and bodily turning him. “We can’t. This is… important, okay?”
“Buck,” Eddie said, sighing around the name like the entire conversation was exhausting him. He still wasn’t looking.
Buck couldn’t stand it suddenly. He needed Eddie’s attention. Always had, maybe always would. He cupped Eddie’s face in a single palm, holding him gently like a porcelain cup. He could see the first crack appear as their eyes finally met. “Listen,” he said again, hushed this time.
And maybe it was the touch or his pleading tone, but Eddie listened. Really listened.
“Look, I know you don’t see yourself as, like, a hero. So I won’t tell you what I really think of you because I know you won’t hear it. But whatever you are, you inspire the hell out of me every day.” Eddie’s head was already shaking. “I’ve been… so lost for so long, just doing whatever to get by. Just hoping to find something like what you’ve got. You make me want to prove I can be somebody.”
“So you were, what,” Eddie said slowly, confusedly, “off trying to find yourself? That’s what all this is about?”
“Sort of,” Buck said, frowning like he was messing this up somehow, whatever this was. “I didn’t just want to prove it to everyone, I wanted to prove it to myself first. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
Buck glanced at the thumb that was still stroking Eddie’s cheek absently. He steeled himself. “I applied to the fire department. I— I passed basic training. I wanted to tell you.”
“You passed?”
“I passed.”
“Wow.”
“So what do you think?”
“I think that still doesn’t explain why you’re rambling on my doorstep at nearly midnight.”
“I wanted to tell you,” Buck repeated. “I wanted you to be the first to know because… well, I always do, don’t I? I can’t stub my toe without wanting to pick up the phone and tell you about it. You’re my favourite person.”
Eddie had sobered immensely. “Yeah… You’re kind of mine too, if you haven’t noticed.”
Buck smiled beautifully, cheeks aching with the force of it. “Good, because I mean it. You’re important to me — so, so important. You and Chris and me, I never want to lose that.”
“Alright, okay, Buck,” Eddie said, like he was calming a spooked deer. “You’re not going to. We aren’t going anywhere.”
He placed a hand over Buck’s, holding him there. Buck’s gaze seemed to zero in on the motion.
“I think I finally get why things never worked out with Tommy,” he said, voice strong and determined.
But Eddie was pulling away, his hand slipping from Buck’s suddenly. Gone as quickly as it had come. “Do we really have to talk about this now?”
“Yes, because it’s the same reason all of my relationships have failed since the minute I met you. Abby, Taylor, Natalia — it was never going to work. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
Brow furrowing, Eddie looked annoyed and lost. “And why is that?”
But Buck was smiling sort of absently. “I think they knew too, in a way. I was never fully in, not all the way. I thought I was giving everything, I really did, but the truth is I don’t think I really knew how to do that.”
“Buck, you’re not making any sense here.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He replaced his hand again, this time cupping Eddie’s jaw in an unmistakably adoring gesture. Eddie accepted it without comment, which could mean everything or nothing at all. “What I’m trying to say is, I wasn’t ever looking to build a life with either of them because I already had that. With you.”
Eddie blinked and he seemed to notice Buck’s proximity as if for the first time. He stared. “What do you mean?”
“You’re my best friend,” he said simply. “And everything else, too. You’re it for me, Eddie. So…break my heart or tell me to get lost if you have to, I just needed to say it once.”
Eddie appeared to be frozen. He didn’t speak or emote, or breathe even.
“So now you know. I’ve said it and you know and everything is out in the open now, so we can just move o—“
At some point, Eddie had become unstuck. He surged forward, cutting him off mid-rant.
It was a harsh first kiss, imperfect and messy. Their teeth briefly clashed. Eddie seemed to know nothing beyond the need to show him that moving on had never been an option. Buck swayed back with the force of it, allowing himself to be kissed.
Eddie pressed into him, a sudden frantic energy overtaking him and pouring into Buck. His hands were shaking, fingertips dancing across Buck’s skin. They crept under his shirt collar and left behind a trail of burning fire. Something in his heated urgency, each touch quick and daring yet uncertain, began to shake Buck from his stupor. So after a brief delay wherein Buck reconnected the wiring in his brain, he used the hand still resting gently on his jaw to guide them.
With his eyes closed, he felt the slight impact as Eddie’s back hit the nearest wall. It was nothing at all like he’d pictured. His only thought had been gentle gentle gentle — still thinking of Eddie, perhaps foolishly, as a fragile thing. But in truth, Eddie was the strongest person he’d ever known, somehow able to take hit after hit after hit and get back up again every time. Perhaps the fragile thing had been his own insecurity all along, whispering words of doubt. They were quiet now.
Beyond anything, he hadn’t wanted to mess it up. Because it should be perfect, this moment. But being this close to Eddie, feeling him, sent his mind into a frenzy. For all of his hopeful imagining, he hadn’t ever gotten this far, not in his wildest fantasies. Eddie was an unattainable dream and he looked like one too. Buck had always known that, deep down.
He deepened the kiss, not willing to wake up just yet, hand enveloping Eddie’s waist as he pulled them flush together. They were both breathless, not wanting to break the moment even for a second. Buck had never been so happy.
He thought maybe this was what belonging felt like.
***
“What made you wanna do this?”
“I dunno, the way you talk about your job… It’s like it’s more than just a job to you. Your team, the 118…” He smiled at nothing in particular. “I guess I wanted to feel that. I never really had a place to call mine.”
Eddie’s lips lifted just slightly, hesitant. Almost a smile. “Maybe I can fix that.”