Archive of Our Own

"I think you may have to lay off the sweets, Eddie."

Eddie's eyes opened, met with a glaring white light above him. He looked over to his left, catching the gave of the hygienist. Her eyebrows were pinched together. Thinking. The mask and hair cover revealed nothing else of her expression.

"Huh?" Eddie responded, the best he could, anyways. with the metallic tools and gloved fingers poking around in his mouth. The hygienist didn't respond immediately. Instead, she pressed one of her tools to a bottom tooth— a lateral incisor, he would learn afterwords while eavesdropping— and not a second passed before a sharp pain hit his tooth. Eddie winced.

So, maybe a few of his teeth had been feeling bothersome the last few months. He brushed every day, though! Twice! And he was pretty on top of his flossing game, he would brag.

"Dentist will come over to confirm, of course," she finally declared, releasing the pressure off his tooth and pulling her hands away from his mouth. While Eddie couldn't see much besides the ceiling above, he did hear the hygienist's chair roll around behind him, accompanied by a muffled shout into the highway. Her face when popped back into his field of view. Her eyes were scrunched up like she was smiling beneath the mask.

"He'll be over soon."

"Four cavities?"

Eddie grimaced. Despite his hygienic diligence perfected since he was a young child, Eddie had always been a little unlucky in the genetic lottery when it came to his teeth. Growing up, when he was younger he'd have to have a few baby teeth yanked out due to their stubbornness— something Eddie personally related to— and a few notable times did Eddie end up with some dumb cavity that disappointed his dentist. He tried changing his tooth paste a few times, and that would work for a little bit, but the enamel always came back to bite him in the butt. And, alright, maybe these days he indulged a few too many times with Buck's baked goods, but who could blame him? They were yummy, and Eddie was just a man. A man weak for his best friend's pastries.

"Yeah—" Eddie looks off to the side, away from the curious and entertained faces of his coworkers-but-also-family. "They had an opening tomorrow morning after we get off shift, so I'm getting that fixed. Otherwise I'll have to wait a couple months."

Hen, who was sitting across from him, nodded along. "Those are sure a pain— which teeth is it?"

"Something, something, lateral incisors, all four," Eddie leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. "I don't know. Dentistry wasn't my calling."

Something shifted on the couch next to Eddie, then a hand rested itself on Eddie's shoulder. He turned his head and opened his eyes to see Buck just a few inches away from his face. He had the sort of look on his face that screamed I'm about to ask something incredibly invasive.

"Hi, Buck."

"Can I see?"

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. "See what? My teeth?"

"Didn't know you were so into mouth stuff, Buckley," Chimney butted in, giving Buck a light shove. Buck pushed him back, eyes not leaving Eddie. Hen snorted.

"No, Chim, I think we knew that one,"

"Oh yeah, too many Buck sex-capade facts to keep straight—"

"Shu'up," Buck groaned. He leaned a little closer to Eddie's face, and Eddie could swear he felt Buck's breath on his cheek. "Show me your teeth."

Eddie, oh, ever unbothered Eddie that was somehow incapable of saying no that's weird, bared his teeth to Buck. From an outside perspective, he probably looked something akin to concerned and afraid.

Buck hummed, eye flickering across the lower half of Eddie's face. When he didn't say anything for a minute or so, Eddie spoke up.

"See anything, doc?"

Off to the side, Ravi walked in from the kitchen, drink in hand. He made a choking noise. "What the fuck did I just walk into?"

"Buck his changing career paths," Hen supplied, shrugging.

"Can he do it somewhere else? Like his own home?"

"Yeah I don't see anything abnormal," Buck declared, leaning away from Eddie. The thought flashed across Eddie's mind, he kind of missed the heat that radiated off Buck's body onto his own, but the thought left his brain just as quickly. Maybe he was just cold, he rationalized. Eddie would go find a sweater after they were done talking.

"Well, it's a good thing you don't have to stop being a firefighter anytime soon, Buck."

Eddie wouldn't say the dentist was his least favorite place to be— that award would go to a preventable kitchen fire gone awry— but that didn't take away the annoyance that was having to visit the place just days after he was last there. He argued with himself that it was for the best, not waiting months to fix a small issue that could grow into a bigger problem without the proper preventative measures— like a kitchen fire— and that was the let's get this over with attitude that he carried himself with during the drive to the office.

The dental office was both familiar and foreign to him. Eddie had picked this place out when he originally moved to Los Angeles per his Abuela's recommendations, and didn't have any problems with their accessibility for Chris, so he stuck with the place. The sterile, clinical environment mirrored the times Eddie spent in the hospital for himself or others, and that clean, medical building was familiar to him. When Eddie walks into a hospital, he feels like he belongs somewhat, having gone through the motions for his job, anytime his family got sentenced to a visit, and those few times where Eddie had to suck it up and see a professional for his own issues— no matter how much he argued with everyone that he could totally just stitch his wounds back up— and that made the whole experience feel like second nature. And repetitive. But, like when he was being the one stuck in a hospital bed, the pristine of the dental office felt suffocating. You didn't go to a dental office to hang out, and it had been ages since Chris wanted him to sit in the room with him that Eddie had gotten all too comfortable with the sparse, routine visits and the stiff dental chair. This extra appointment was a break in the repetition, and Eddie had to face the music, so to speak, without the six months between he usually spends hyping himself up for his appointments.

He liked the vibes of the hospital. He did not like the vibes of the dental office.

Buck, bless him, had spent a good chunk of their shift the night prior looking into all things dental care, throwing little fun facts between calls and got into the nitty gritty of what Eddie was supposed to expect during his appointment. Eddie hadn't the heart to tell Buck that he was familiar with the cavity process from all his run-ins when he was younger, but it was weirdly reassuring hearing Buck talk his ear off about it. Besides, the last thing Eddie Diaz was going to do was tell Buck to stop talking.

Fleeting smiles, curt nods, and a few words later Eddie was laid back in the chair. The dentist and the hygienist spoke to and over him, technical words flying over his head that Eddie was able to pick apart the meaning of for a few of them, and finally, only minutes after sitting down, the dentist leaning over Eddie with a rather daunting needle and a crinkle in his eyes that said he really, really enjoyed injecting patients.

Ah, lidocaine, Eddie's old friend.

If anyone were to ask Eddie after the fact, no, he did not tear up during the upper jaw injections. He just, had allergies, or something.

Eddie let out a boisterous yawn, finally letting himself slouch back into his couch. The appointment went by quicker than he expected, and now he was back home in his quiet living room with a tingling feeling all over his face. Eddie could not feel his lips at all. Or the lower part of his nose. He raised one of his hands up to his face, poking at his upper lip a few times before sighing. It was going to be a long couple hours.

Before Eddie could continue on with his poking, his front door rattled open.

"Eddie!" Eddie didn't need to turn around to see who that voice belonged to, but he did anyways, not missing the opportunity to see Buck once more. A part of his mind poked fun at himself for how its really only been about eight hours since they last saw each other, but absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or whatever. Eddie just liked to see his best friend. Nothing strange about that. Any strange thoughts were the fault of the lidocaine.

Absolutely wasn't, but Eddie was willing to grasp onto any straw that he could fine.

Buck grinned as Eddie. In his hands, he had a grocery bag that was presumably filled with ingredients to some elaborate dinner he planned to make.

"Has the numbness worn off yet? Google says you should wait a little bit before you eat," Buck kicked the door closed behind him. He started to make his way towards the kitchen, prompting Eddie to get up and follow him. "At least until it wears off. Does it hurt, yet? I brought ingredients for meatloaf. Shouldn't be too tough on the mouth!"

Buck set the paper bag onto the kitchen counter. When Eddie leaned over to look inside, he wasn't too shocked to see all the ingredients he knew were missing from his kitchen for this meal. Buck knew Eddie's kitchen well— probably better than Eddie did. Though,

"I already have an onion, you didn't have to buy one." Another thing Eddie realized as soon as he left the dental office, is that he was dropping the ball whenever he tried to speak. It's like Eddie's muscles completely forgot how to work, on top of not being able to feel them at all, and it made every other word out of his mouth sound funky. To his left, he heard Buck stifle a laugh.

"Whole mouth, huh?"

"Can't feel my lips," Eddie grumbled. Buck grinned again.

"We'll save the onion for the next dinner," Buck decided. In a blink, Buck got started on the meatloaf, breaking open packages while Eddie dug around for some bowls and a loaf tin from his cabinets. Eddie helped where he could under Buck's direction, mixing some ingredients together and attempting to hold the pan steady as Buck shoveled raw meat into it. They managed to only drop a few chunks of beef and various spices to the ground during their prepping, cheering together when they finally got it in the oven.

Now, it was a waiting game.

Eddie's knee bumped against Buck's as they took their spots on the couch. Buck haphazardly set a time on his phone, tossing it back on the table and grabbing the TV remote instead.

"I'm feeling a rom-com." Buck flipped through the movie recommendations. Every so often they would point a title out and read the synopsis, passing on quite a few movies before they landed on some cheesy hallmark-style movie.

They watched it for about twenty minutes before they got distracted.

"Okay, so what would swimming in sparkling water feel like?"

"Probably not sticky," Eddie supplied, rubbing his fingers along his chin. "I don't even think it would feel any different than regular water."

"Really?"

"It's not like it's soda. Sure, it's carbonated, but that doesn't mean much— have you ever stuck your finger in it? Like to stir it? Feels like water."

"Your finger is too small a sample size, though," Buck argued. Eddie smirked.

"You callin' my hands small, Buckley? Last I checked, they were bigger than yours."

Buck sputtered. "I— I mean its like, not a whole limb! What if it feels, I don't know, spikier, if it covers more surface area," he rushed out, his cheeks gaining a nice, red tint. Eddie thought of how it looked when his whole face was red. Buck always looked nice. Eddie shook his head, glancing away from his friend to get rid of the unwanted thought.

"Spikier?" He choked out, still not looking Buck in the eye. "What does that even mean?"

"Carbonation…" Buck trailed off, suddenly very interested in staring directly at Eddie's face. Well, more like the lower half of Eddie's face.

Eddie froze, his own eyes coming back to Buck and scanning his face for any indication of what he was feeling. When he found none, he held his hand in front of Buck's face and snapped his fingers.

"Hey, space cadet, got something on your mind?"

"You keep poking your mouth. It's kind of distracting."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, confused, but took stock of his body. He became acutely aware of where his limbs were settled and realized that, yes, Eddie was just kind of poking at his face again. His gingers brushed against his upper lip, a little bit of stubble prickling at the pads of his fingers. He couldn't feel his face there still. Just a dull, staticky sensation whenever he thought about it. Eddie pulled his hand away.

The fingers were replaced with a different set of fingers, Buck's fingers. He brushed against Eddie's upper lip, eyes fixated on the skin. The closeness made Eddie involuntarily shiver.

"The lidocaine still hasn't worn off?"

"It's only been like two hours. I wasn't alone for that long before you got here." Buck hummed in response.

"So you can't feel my fingers at all?"

Eddie could see, just barely, as Buck tugged on his lip, gently pulling it forward and letting it go. There was a quiet click.

"No— man, why are you touching my face," Eddie forced out a laugh. While he couldn't feel anything beyond the surface level pressure of Buck touching him, Eddie couldn't ignore the fuzzy feeling under his skin at the mere idea of being touched. He was touch starved, and it had nothing to do with Buck, Eddie rationalized. It had been ages since he had done, well, anything. Eddie fumbled with his hands.

"Would it…" Buck trailed off again, eyes glancing up into Eddie's before drifting back down again.

Rationality often goes out the window when Buck and Eddie were together— they save all the 'good' ideas for when they're playing guardians of life and death on shift, so its in the comfort of Eddie's home that all the 'bad' ideas often get thrown around and enacted because, really, what else were they going to do anyways? In the deepest corner of Eddie's mind, he thinks of all the bad ideas they could suggest to each other, but on the surface, he thinks oh no, what is it this time.

"Can you feel anything if you kissed someone?"

Eddie's eyebrows shot up.

"If I can't even feel your fingers on my face, I don't think I'll be able to feel someone kissing me."

"Yeah, but, how would you know without trying?" Buck's arms flailed up. Eddie wished he would stop looking down at his lips.

"Buck, not every hypothesis needs to be tested." Eddie's brain felt like it was getting scrambled in a shitty non-stick pan. He did commend himself for remembering the scientific method, though, the topic Chris was reviewing in class lately. Hypothesis, experiment, and some other steps he couldn't recall at that moment. He'd have to ask Buck later.

"Sparkling water!"

Okay, now Eddie is just confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's like the sparkling water," without warning, Buck grabbed onto one of Eddie's hands, fumbling with the man's fingers until just one of them was pointing out. He waved the limb around like it wasn't attached to Eddie's body. "Sure, it doesn't feel weird with your finger, but what about submerging the whole limb! It's got to feel different."

"I think we established I can't even feel anything—" Eddie cut himself off, almost regrettably yanking his hand back from Buck's grip. He ignored the clenching feeling in his stomach.

"Who— who would I even submerge my lips with, Buck? It's not like I can find a willing participant on such short notice."

Or want to, his brain helpfully tacked on. In hindsight, maybe Eddie should have realized what was going to happen the moment those words left his mouth, but there were no takesie-backsies, not with Evan Buckley.

Buck's mouth opened and closed a few times, as if for once in his life he was deciding whether or not he should say it, like the words would ruin whatever weird moment had transpired between the two, and Eddie almost wanted to welcome the out of left field comment that could come from his best friend's mouth, but Buck made his decision before Eddie could, and only stuttered a little bit as the words came tumbling out his mouth.

"You could kiss me,"

Eddie swore he could hear a perfectly timed record scratch in the distance.

What.

Buck kept on talking, not giving Eddie a moment to recover. "I mean— the lidocaine should ware off sometime soon, so I don't think we could drag you to a bar to find some willing lady to kiss in time. Kind of a bad time to be single, huh. Though you don't even like the whole casual thing so it wouldn't be fun for you anyways. I don't know why I suggested myself, you could just find some random pillow to make out with—"

Eddie cut him off. "Okay."

Buck stared at Eddie, lips parted. A quiet huh slipped past his lips. Eddie did his best to not start shewing on his bottom lip, not wanting to accidentally bite himself too hard. He couldn't stop the words coming out of his mouth.

"Why not? I mean, when's the next time I'll get injected with anesthesia and won't be able to feel my lips? Hopefully not soon."

Irrational? Eddie takes it back. Buck and him often have really decent ideas even when they aren't on a shift together. Besides, does it mean anything?

"It doesn't mean anything, just an experiment between two bros. Like the sparklingly water." Eddie answered himself, verbally, this time, gauging the reaction out of Buck like he was hoping he'd oppose the thought of it just being a homies kissing other homies for fun thing. Which, Eddie wasn't hoping that, just to be clear, and was glad Buck nodded his head in agreement.

"Exactly!" It Buck could pat himself on the back in that moment, Eddie was sure he would, but his arms were too occupied now resting against Eddie's shoulders. His expression turned serious, causing Eddie to gulp.

"I promise I'm a good kisser," he declared, staring at him like he was trying to see inside Eddie's head. He did that a lot, Eddie had come to realize recently. Staring.

"Shouldn't matter anyways, can't feel anything." Eddie felt the tightness at his stomach again at the words. Not being able to feel Buck kissing him. Eddie should be glad. Not that there was anything against Buck and kissing— Eddie believes Buck when Buck says he's good at something, so Eddie believes the idea that Buck is a fantastic kisser that could steal breaths away, the motions coming second nature to him like breathing. Buck, like, Eddie wasn't really the target audience for that sort of thing, not from Buck, so he was glad he didn't have to feel Buck's lips on him.

"Right," Buck trailed off. They sat in silence for a few moments after that, the only sound being the soft hum of whatever song the rom-com was playing and a distant rattle of Eddie's fridge as it ran. Eddie shifted on the couch a little bit, bringing a knee up to the cushion to better face Buck. Buck mirrored the movements. If they were going to do this, might as well make himself comfortable.

"So."

"So," Buck repeated. Another moment passed.

"You gonna kiss me or what, Buckley?" Eddie finally supplied, teasing, and trying to contain the excitement bubbling up within him. He wanted to get this done and over with, he rationalized, for the experiment. The thought of Buck's lips had nothing to do with anything. He wasn't going to feel it anyways.

Buck's hands pressed into the sides of Eddie's face, damn near covering the entirety of the sides of his head. The feeling was warm, and oddly familiar.

Can't feel a thing.

"Here I go," were the last words that came out of Buck's mouth before he leaned fully into Eddie's space.

Here's the thing— as expected, in an experiment you already have the answer to just based off the last few hours of his time already spent poking around, the outcome didn't change with a different type of objet, or in this case, someone else's skin, touching his numbed lips. Like his fingers, like with Buck's fingers, it felt like absolutely nothing, and if Eddie focused hard enough, he could imagine there was nothing pressed against him at all.

But Eddie couldn't focus that hard. Not like this. Like the phenomenon that a person born with limited, or not at all, sight typically had a much better experience with all the other sense in their body— only do to the fact that the brain just rerouted the useless development of eyes and spent it on other senses, Buck had told him once— the rest of Eddie felt like it was, for lack of better comparison, on fire.

Buck's hands engulfed Eddie's head entirely, add on the feeling of the front of Buck's face becoming so occupied with just Buck, Eddie didn't have a chance of thinking of anything else. He could only think of Buck. The warm breath from Buck's nose, which was practically nuzzling against Eddie's and his cheek, tickled his skin. He felt Buck's leg brush against his own, and Eddie couldn't stop himself from reaching out and touching the fabric of Buck's shirt, wanting to feel more of him. He couldn't feel enough. Something was missing.

Eddie knew what that something was— he knew it the moment he closed his eyes and tried to press his lips back. He hoped, he prayed, in his mind somehow the prickling feeling on his lips would go away, and he could start feeling more of the faded warmth and less of that far away pressure of Buck on him. Just so he could know. Just as Eddie thought he could feel something, Buck pulled back, dragging out a pathetic whine from Eddie's lips that neither of them were willing to acknowledge. Eddie's eyes fluttered open, met with the familiar blue eyes of Buck.

Silence stretched between them again, this time accentuated by the heavy breaths that passed through their lips. Eddie's eyes flickered across Buck's face, and Eddie could swear Buck was copying his exact movements.

"Eddie," Buck whispered, hands falling from Eddie's face.

"Do—"

A sharp, loud ringing noise knocked them both from their trance, and caused Eddie to flinched back a few more inches from Buck while Buck scrambled to find his phone on the table and turn the alarm off. The meatloaf was done.

"I, uh—" Buck stuttered over his words, springing up from the couch. He didn't look too long at Eddie as he spoke, only giving fleeting glances. "I'll get the meatloaf out of the oven."

"Oh— I think I hear Chim calling my name, I'll, uh, catch you later?"

Eddie let out a resigned sigh as he watched Buck sprint across the bay, rushing off to god knows where, and likely not in any direction Chimney was in. At this point, Eddie couldn't even be too mad about it— he's ha all shift to be annoyed with Buck sprinting away, and now, fourteen hours later, Eddie has accepted the fact that Buck was avoiding him.

And Eddie? He couldn't even blame him.

After the two had eaten dinner a couple nights prior, meatloaf made to perfection that Eddie couldn't help but pat himself on the back about having helped make it, Buck gave some lame excuse about needing to go to Maddie's and rushed out the door. At first, Eddie didn't think much of it— no matter his complicated feelings on the subject, Buck rarely crashed at Eddie's after moving out, and Eddie was left to a rather normal night alone, with nothing but his thoughts.

A lot of thoughts.

Eddie couldn't stop touching his face that night after Buck left, trying to chase the feeling left behind with his finger tips. Trying to see how his face reacted under his own touch again— which amounted to nothing. Touching his lips like they were threatening to fall off. Even after the feeling in the lower half of his face completely returned, he still poked at them. Hoping something would happen.

He just couldn't figure out why it was bothering him so much. The feeling— the lack-there-of— followed him through the long night as he lied awake and seeped into the next morning when he finally got out of bed to go pick Chris up. Eddie tried to keep himself busy, and it mostly worked, mundane chores numbing his mind like the lidocaine. Eddie did attempt to message Buck a few times that day, too, but only got short, aloof responses if any. He was kind of glad for the cold shoulder— the last thing Eddie could do was try to put words to what he doesn't even know he's chasing.

Once Buck was completely out of sight did Eddie finally find the will to move his feet, move only his next task, which was restocking the ambulance. Another mind-numbing chore.

Eddie was pleasantly surprised to find Hen already in there when he walked up.

"Oh," Eddie started, taking a foot up into the vehicle, "I didn't know you were going to stock it this time."

Hen spared him a quick glance, before focusing her eyes back on the medicine drawer.

"Finished up cleaning earlier. I figured I'd give you a head start," Hen put the last vial in, promptly shutting the drawer. She tossed her stocking basket aside and fully turned to face Eddie, who was now sitting on the bench. Eddie watched as Hen pulled her gloves off.

"Eddie," Hen drifted off, her eyes scanning across his face.

"Thanks, Hen."

Hen didn't say anything at first. Instead, she slowly rose from her kneeling position, stepping towards the doors and peaking out. Once she was satisfied with whatever she did— or didn't— see, Hen gently shut the doors, leaving just her and Eddie alone in the ambulance. Eddie leaned over and turned the light on.

"What's going on, Eddie?"

Eddie sighed. He's worked with Hen long enough to know that she notices things, and she notices them well. Excited over something? She can easily tell when to start sharing the joy. A bit down in the dumps? Her mind is already racing with words to say that could cheer even the saddest people up, or at least give them some advice in the mean time. Eddie's sure if he had a bruise on the lower half of his leg under his pants that Hen would be able to sniff it out based on how much Eddie reached down and pressed his fingers against it.

"Buck's avoiding me." Hen nodded, and Eddie could see the sparkle of entertainment behind her eyes.

"I think that much was obvious. He'd said Chim's name more times than I can count, and I'm pretty sure Chim was napping in his office a few of those times."

Eddie let out a chuckle. He looked down to his hands in his lap, toying at some loose string on his pants. He'd have to order a new pair soon.

"But," Eddie looked back up at Hen. She placed a hand against his shoulder, the touch was warm. Reassuring. "I want to know what's going on with you, Eddie. You've been moping around the station since the begining of the shift."

Eddie thought back to the last few hours and, yeah, he had been acting a little like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help it— Buck was just—

He just felt conflicted over Buck. And not getting to talk to Buck about it just made him even more confused. He tugged harder on the loose thread, wincing a bit at the soft snap it made when it finally gave from the pressure.

"Something happened between Buck and I," that's all Eddie supplied, all he could say, "and I don't really know how I feel about it."

"Okay, and I take it you want to talk to Buck about it? But you can't."

"Because he keeps running off every time I get within five feet of him outside of a call."

Hen took in a breath, trying to figure out how to put it. "Did you not enjoy what happened between the two of you?"

Eddie blinked. He had spent the last forty-eight or so hours trying to chase the feeling, find the feeling, that he never sat down and asked himself the simple question. Did I enjoy it?

"I did. I think. I don't know." And maybe thats why Eddie didn't— couldn't— pin a name to the feeling, because it was unfamiliar, around sometimes, but often times Eddie tried his best to avoid it.

"Maybe Buck, like you," Hen bumped his shoulder with her own, "is still trying to figure out how he's feeling about it. We both know Buck isn't going to avoid you forever, Eddie. Like you, he just needs some time to think, and you'll both be better off talking when you've both collected your thoughts."

Eddie nodded. "Thank you again, Hen."

Hen smiled at that, standing up from her spot. She gave a friendly pat to Eddie's back before moving over to the ambulance doors. She paused just short of the handle.

"The only thing left that needs stocking is the gauze and bandages. Chim and I were going to watch Hit Man in a little bit if you want to join us. Calls permitting, of course."

Eddie chuckled. It seemed like every time Hen and Chimney tried watching a movie they'd get a call about ten minutes in and by the time they all got back to the station the two were too tired to even think about finishing the movie. "You can count on it."

Eddie made quick word of stocking the ambulance, but the conversation still lingered on his mind. He didn't mind what happened. After Eddie finished stocking the ambulance, he was intercepted on his way to where Chimney and Hen were by none other than Buck. The two talked, briefly, and Buck apologized for being so aloof, and promised he would be normal. They didn't directly bring up what happened, more-so talked about it in a roundabout way, but it was enough for them to start acting like they usually do. Eddie still felt like he was missing a big piece of the puzzle, though. Like trying to wipe dust off a mirror with a torn up piece of paper towel, Eddie wont ever get the results he wants if he doesn't try again with a usable cloth. So Eddie devised a plan.

The next morning finally rolled around, and it was a lot easier than Eddie expected convincing Buck to agree to come over to his house later that evening. Whether it was because Buck was finally warming back up to him or if his tactic of saying please really nicely— and throwing in some puppy eyes the same way Christopher does when he wants something— Eddie didn't care, because something convinced Buck to come over, and Eddie wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He was going to kiss the mouth, though.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation scheming, but Eddie knew the problem at hand. He kissed Buck, and not knowing what it really felt like— not just the overwhelming way that Buck surrounded him when it happened— was driving him up a wall, so naturally, Eddie had to kiss Buck again. For science. Just to know what he thinks he was missing. A control group to compare the numbness to! And after that, they'd be able to put this whole thing to rest, write it off as a funny thing that meant nothing more than an experiment.

Eddie wasn't exactly aiming for this idea at first, but twenty google searches about what lidocaine does to your brain and what kissing your male best friend is supposed to feel like— why he felt fuzzy even with the lack of meaningful contact— later, this was the best he could come up with. Sue him. Eddie was nothing if not a guy who does what needs to be done.

So, after a quick power nap, Eddie found himself pacing his kitchen, waiting for Buck's arrival. Eddie was glad Chris was sleeping over with the Wilson's again tonight, because the last thing he needed was his son making fun of his science experiment.

Eddie's suffering wasn't too prolonged. It was half past four when a familiar vehicle pulled up into Eddie's driveway, prompting Eddie to scramble about, combing his hair back with his fingers and trying to figure out how to stand, before settling on leaning against a nearby wall and facing the front door.

The door swung open, and there Buck stood with a sheepish grin and a bag of groceries. He looked like he normally did— unbothered and happy. Eddie could feel his heart skipping a beat. He liked that look on him.

"Sorry I'm late, the first store I was at was somehow out of rice," Buck explained as he walked in, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot. Eddie followed him to the kitchen. "So I had to go to the one a few blocks north for it. Anything for the chicken curry."

Eddie smiled. "You really saved the day, Buck," he joked, helping Buck unload the bag while he dug around Eddie's cabinet for the cookware. The two got started on dinner immediately.

Everything was normal. They were fine, and things were fine.

And that was the thing that started making Eddie nervous.

It was a couple hours later now, both boys full on food and a beer cracked open each. The neck of the bottle was cold on Eddie's hand, and he feared he would lose his focus on the movie if he set it back down on the table. Buck seemed relaxed next to him. His eyes were focused on the screen, and he let out a light chuckle at each of the dumb jokes the main actor said. It had been a while since words were spoken between them.

Eddie sucked in some air. Time to be a do-er.

"Hey, Buck?"

Besides him, Buck stiffened up, clearly not expecting him to say something, but he relaxed back into the couch before Eddie could mull over it. Buck turned his head towards Eddie.

"Hi, Eddie,"

Eddie finally set the beer bottle back on the table. He then turned his body towards Buck, one of his knees being brought up on the couch as he did so. One of Eddie's hands flexed over his thigh.

"I was thinking," Eddie trailed off, avoiding looking directly into Buck's eyes.

"That's never a good sign," Buck tried to joke. Eddie didn't give much of a reaction, though, which prompted Buck to lean in a little closer to him.

"What's up, Eddie?" Buck asked, voice soft. Eddie could feel the squeezing feeling at his abdomen.

"About the other night," the words tumbled past Eddie's lips before he could try and talk himself out of it, "about when we kissed,"

Buck froze. "Oh."

"It just felt so weird and I haven't been able to stop thinking about what was so wrong about it—"

"Are you calling me a bad kisser?" Buck interjected, the idea knocking him out of whatever stupor he was in. He had a wild look on his face.

Eddie raised his hands frantically, shaking his head. "No! No, I mean, I don't know, that's the issue!"

"I— I'm not following," Buck's eyebrows pinched together, "what was so wrong with the kiss?"

"I couldn't feel anything," Eddie blurted out, "ok, yeah, obviously I couldn't, that was the whole point. It just felt like something was missing,

"So I thought, maybe, we could kiss again so I could accurately tell you what was different about it."

Eddie wanted to kiss again because he needed to know. He needed to know what that part that was so close yet so far was.

"You want to kiss again?"

"For science."

Buck looked at Eddie like he had grown a second head. "You want to kiss again," Buck repeated, voice breaking when he said kiss. "You—"

"You don't need to keep repeating it," Eddie huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest, and tried to ignore the way Buck's eyes followed the movement.

"You've kissed someone before, though."

This made Eddie pause for a moment. With all his theorizing and planning, Eddie didn't stop to consider this wasn't his first kiss or anything— well, it was his first kiss with Buck— so Eddie just kind of forgot he has an answer to his question. But it's been a long time, his brain supplied. And you've never kissed Buck before.

So Eddie said exactly that. "I've never kissed you before."

It was different kissing Buck. It had to be different. The warmth that surrounded his body when they shared that moment on the couch four nights ago was something he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever, and it was so unfamiliar but in a way that Eddie craved to know more of.

Buck was staring at Eddie now, lips parted. Eddie could feel his heart pounding in his ears. In the pursuit of knowledge, Eddie went too far, and now the nervousness was creeping up his spine tenfold. He had to take it back if he wanted to go back to the way the two of them were last week, before anything happened, because Eddie needed Buck in the highest capacity Buck would give himself. Wasn't that a silly thought.

Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but Buck beat him to the punch.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Buck scooted just a little bit closer to Eddie, his knee and the lower half of his leg bumping against Eddie's then staying there. Eddie could feel the heat radiating off Buck, just like it had last time. Buck was staring at him intensely, his bottom lip being half chewed between his teeth.

"I'll kiss you again,"

Eddie swallowed. Okay, this was happening. They would kiss, and then Eddie will finally be able to put this whole thing to rest. Write it off as a dumb experiment that would maybe get a B-minus in science class. He wasn't even sure if he was following the scientific method correctly. Whatever— it didn't matter now, now that Eddie finally was going to get Buck's lips back on him.

"Here I go," was the last thing Buck said before he got into Eddie's space again. Hands cradled Eddie's head, warm and firm, Eddie couldn't move his head away even if he wanted to. Buck's breath was just as hot when it hit his cheek, and the familiar warmth spreading through his body helped him relax.

Eddie had kissed people before. He's kissed plenty of people, but the lips on lips never had been his favorite part of it. The intimacy of the moment had a bigger hold on Eddie— having someone so close to him, someone to hold him like it was the most effortless thing they could do, brought Eddie a weird sense of peace in those short few moments when he constantly felt pressured by the world. His favorite of every women he ever kissed was undeniably Shannon— she meant everything to him before he had more in life, and even when everything went to shit and when they tried to make it better afterwards, the familiarity was not to be beat. Love, in a way Eddie understands now isn't the type of love everyone raves about.

For a moment, with his eyes closed and breath held, Eddie felt like he was with her one more time.

But Buck was an undeniably different kisser, his lips moving with experience that only a man that lived like he did way before he met Eddie could have, his scent filling his nostrils when Eddie finally reminded himself to breathe, all accentuated by the pressure of his touch that kept Eddie from floating off the couch and into the vast emptiness of space. No longer did Eddie feel like something was missing— he was finally able to conclude the experiment.

In that moment, in Buck's hands, did Eddie realize the love he had for his best friend was the kind of love everyone raved about.

Buck pulled back, his hands leaving the side of Eddie's face like it had burnt him, and Eddie would only mourn the loss for a moment. Buck was now standing from the couch, backing away like Eddie was a crazed animal that had it's eyes zoned in on Buck with plans to devour him whole.

"I— I just realized I need to get going," Buck stuttered out, spinning around as he frantically looked for his jacket. "Remembered I have a, a thing."

"A thing?"

"Yeah— like, you know," Buck trailed off. He snatched his discarded jacket from behind the couch. While he was fumbling to put it on, Eddie took the opportunity to move himself fromm the couch and stand in front of the door, blocking Buck's exit.

When Buck looked back up, he gave Eddie a sheepish grin. "See you around?" He offered, before reaching out towards the door. Eddie held his position firm.

"Buck,"

"Do you— do you mind if I just squeeze past you—"

"Buck,"

"You can keep the left over chicken curry, I bet Chris would want some tomorrow for lunch, he liked it last time we had it—"

"Buck!" Buck's mouth snapped shut. He looked at Eddie with confusion, and maybe a little bit of fear behind his eyes. Eddie let out a sigh.

"Buck, why are you trying to run away again?" His voice came out softly, and Eddie considered putting a hand onto Buck's arm before deciding against it. Maybe not. Maybe not yet.

"What?"

"You did it the first time we kissed," Eddie shifted a little bit, unable to resist the urge to be closer to Buck. Buck didn't move. "And you did it at the firehouse."

Buck didn't say anything, so Eddie kept speaking. "I told you if you didn't want to that— we didn't have to kiss again,"

Eddie looked off to the side. "It was stupid, anyways," he muttered. Eddie felt himself tensing up. In his pursuit of science, he didn't consider the implications of his studies, and now, based on the way Buck was acting again, he didn't think pretending like it didn't happen was going to fix things this time. Especially after Eddie realized how much he wanted to keep kissing Buck.

"No, It's not stupid— I'm stupid, I'm being stupid," Buck rushed out, hands flailing around. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

Eddie nodded. It was all he could do. Eddie stepped to the side and motioned at the door. It stung.

"I get it," Eddie choked out. "You don't feel the same about this as I do, so I shouldn't have made you do that for me."

Buck's hands planted themselves on Eddie's shoulders. He looked into Eddie's eyes, a sad expression that made Eddie want to puke.

"I'm sorry," Buck's hands scrunched at the fabric on Eddie's shoulders. The pressure made him feel itchy. "I tried to put it behind us and just act normal. That's why I was avoiding you at the firehouse."

"Right," Eddie whispered.

"But then you asked me to kiss you again and I said yes because you looked so determined to figure out the difference and I couldn't just say no—"

"I'm sorry—"

"I was being selfish!"

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed. Wasn't he the one being selfish?

"I realized when we kissed, the first time, that everyone was right. Maddie was right— I'm in love with you—"

Wait.

"And when you asked me to kiss you again I knew it would be the only other chance to get you as something more and I took advantage of it, of you!"

He's—

"You're in love with me?"

Buck released his grip on Eddie's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispered, taking a step back, "I tried. But— But I can do better, this time, I won't let it get in the way of our friendship, and if you need some time I can leave for however long you need me to, forever, if I have to—"

Eddie stepped forward, unable to stop himself as he reached out and took Buck by the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss and cutting off his rambles. Buck let out a surprised noise, but relaxed into Eddie's hold, kissing him back. Eddie felt arms wrap around his waist. He smiled into the kiss.

Eddie was the one to pull away this time, Buck trying to follow him with his lips before giving up when Eddie let out a laugh.

"Buck,"

Buck opened his eyes, the brilliant blue hue meeting Eddie's gaze instantly. He grinned.

"Eddie"

"Don't leave," Eddie let his hand drag down Buck's arm, before wrapping with with Buck's hand, "I don't want you to leave."

"Okay," Buck softly replied. He squeezed Eddie's hand. "You— you kissed me again."

"Yeah I did."

"Why?" Buck urged.

Eddie looked off the side. He could feel his cheeks getting a little warm. He didn't get reprieve from Buck's face for long, though, as Buck moved his head to keep himself in Eddie's field of view.

"I realized after we kissed, the second time, that I wanted to do it again— I wanted to do more," Eddie bit his lip, the realizations blooming into more as he spoke. "We do so much together, Buck. You're so good to me, and you're even better to Chris— It felt so wrong whenever I tried to date, like I was preforming, and even—"

Eddie paused for a moment, closing his eyes. "Even when I was with Shannon it felt more like I was just spending all my time with a best friend, like I was with you— when we kissed I felt like something was missing. I was missing what I could have with you."

Buck didn't respond, not immediately, instead he pulled Eddie in close for a hug, tucking Eddie's face into his shoulder. Eddie melted into the touch.

"Let's do it, then," Buck spoke into Eddie's ear, "let's have more together. Eddie, I,"

Buck paused, and Eddie could feel him nodding his head into his shoulder.

"Eddie, I love you."

Eddie grinned. He pulled himself back out of Buck's hold and grabbed back onto his hand. Eddie pulled him to the couch, pushing Buck down onto the cushions before dropping down next to him. His hands cupped Buck's face as he gave him another soft kiss.

"I love you too, Buck," Eddie whispered against Buck's lips. Eddie reached forward to grab the remote, resuming the movie. He settled back into the couch against Buck and leaned his head onto his shoulder. Buck wrapped an arm around Eddie. His head leaned on top of Eddie's. There were more things to talk about, a whole lot of grievances they had to work through before they really started having more together, but Eddie was tired, and he decided they would continue the rest of their lives properly in the morning. For now, Eddie just wanted to relax, and maybe drink another beer.

"Hey, Eddie?"

Eddie hummed. When he could feel Buck trying not to laugh besides him, he raised an eyebrow.

"So, like, how much do you think forty gallons of sparkling water would cost?"