Chapter Text
Eddie Diaz had always thought he knew himself.
He'd been married, had a kid, lived what he'd considered a normal life. When that fell apart, he'd chalked it up to the usual reasons—deployment, distance, growing apart. He'd never questioned the fundamentals of who he was or what he wanted.
Then Evan Buckley walked into his life at the 118, all eager energy and reckless bravery, and Eddie had found his best friend. His partner. The person who understood him better than anyone else ever had.
Eight years. Eight goddamn years of working side by side, of having Buck's back and Buck having his, of late nights and shared beers and Christopher's laughter filling the spaces between them. Eight years of telling himself that the way his heart kicked up when Buck smiled at him was just friendship. That the jealousy that burned in his gut when Buck dated someone new was just protectiveness. That the dreams he couldn't quite remember in the morning were nothing at all.
He'd been lying to himself for eight years.
Now, sitting on the edge of his bed at two in the morning, Eddie pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried to make sense of the want that had been building in him like a wildfire. It had started small—noticing the way Buck's t-shirts stretched across his shoulders, the way his hands looked when he gripped the steering wheel, the low rumble of his voice when he was tired. Innocent observations that Eddie had filed away without examining too closely.
But then Buck had touched him. Just a hand on his lower back, steadying him after a rough call, and Eddie had felt it everywhere. His skin had lit up like Buck had branded him, and suddenly all those filed-away observations came rushing back with crystal clarity.
He wanted Buck. Wanted him with an intensity that made his previous relationships feel like pale imitations of desire.
The realization should have terrified him. Maybe it would have, a few years ago. But Eddie had been through too much, survived too much, to waste time on fear. He'd looked at Buck across the engine bay three days ago and thought, I'm in love with him, and instead of panic, he'd felt relief. Like finally admitting the truth had released something that had been coiled tight in his chest for years.
Buck had looked back at him, and Eddie had seen his own revelation reflected in those blue eyes. They hadn't said anything—not yet. But the air between them had changed, charged with possibility and promise.
What Eddie hadn't expected was the rest of it.
He'd always assumed, in the abstract moments when he'd let himself consider being with a man, that he'd be the one in control. The one taking charge. It made sense, didn't it? He was a former Army medic, a firefighter, someone who led and protected and took care of people. In bed, he'd always been the one setting the pace, the one on top.
But with Buck...
Eddie's breath caught just thinking about it. They hadn't done anything yet—
He'd wanted to drop to his knees right there. Wanted Buck to push him down, hold him there, use him. The want had been so visceral, so overwhelming, that Eddie had pulled away, gasping, his whole body shaking with need.
Eddie had nodded, unable to form words, because how could he explain that he was more than okay? That he was discovering parts of himself he'd never known existed? That every assumption he'd made about what he wanted was being rewritten in real-time?
He'd gone home that night aching and confused and so turned on he could barely think straight. He'd touched himself in the shower, imagining Buck's hands on him, Buck's cock—Christ, he wanted to know how big Buck was, why did they call him firehose—and he'd come harder than he could remember, biting his fist to keep quiet.
Afterward, lying in bed, Eddie had forced himself to be honest. Really honest, maybe for the first time in his life.
He didn't want to be in control with Buck. He wanted Buck to take him apart. Wanted those big hands holding him down, that strength that Eddie knew so well turned on him in the best possible way. He wanted to feel Buck inside him, wanted to be stretched and filled and claimed.
The thought should have made him uncomfortable. Eddie Diaz didn't submit to anyone. He didn't give up control. He didn't—
Except he wanted to. With Buck, he wanted to surrender everything.
And that was the thing that kept him up at night, heart racing and skin too tight. Not the fact that he wanted a man. Not even the fact that it was his best friend. But the realization that he'd been wrong about himself in such a fundamental way.
He wasn't a top. He was a bottom. A pushy bottom, maybe—he'd never be able to just lie there and take it, would always need to demand and challenge and push Buck's buttons. But bottom nonetheless.
And apparently, he was a size queen, because the thought of Buck's cock being huge made his mouth water and his hole clench with anticipation.
Eddie laughed quietly into the darkness of his bedroom, the sound slightly hysterical. Eight years of friendship, and it had taken him this long to figure out that he was in love with Evan Buckley and desperate to get fucked by him.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from Buck: Can't sleep. You up?
Eddie's heart hammered against his ribs. He picked up the phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
They were on shift tomorrow. Twelve hours of working side by side, of this new tension crackling between them, of wanting and not having.
Eddie wasn't sure how much longer he could wait.
Yeah, he typed back. I'm up. Come over.
It was time to stop denying what they both wanted.
Eddie heard Buck's truck pull up outside and his heart started hammering against his ribs. He'd sent that text twenty minutes ago—Come over—and now Buck was here, and Eddie had no idea what he was going to say. How did you tell your best friend of eight years that you were in love with him? That you'd been lying to yourself for so long you'd forgotten what the truth felt like?
The knock on the door was soft, tentative. Buck had his own key, but he was knocking. Like he knew something had shifted between them, like he was giving Eddie the chance to change his mind.
Eddie opened the door, and the sight of Buck standing there in sweatpants and a faded LAFD hoodie made his breath catch. Buck looked nervous, his hands shoved in his pockets, his hair messy like he'd been running his fingers through it.
"Hey," Buck said softly.
"Hey." Eddie stepped back, letting Buck in. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course." Buck followed him inside, closing the door behind him. "hey"
Eddie led him to the living room, but he couldn't sit down. He was too wired, too full of nervous energy. He paced to the window and back, aware of Buck watching him with those blue eyes that saw too much.
"Eddie." Buck's voice was gentle. "What's going on? You're freaking me out a little."
Eddie stopped pacing and turned to face Buck. His best friend. His partner. The person who knew him better than anyone else in the world. The person he'd been in love with for God knows how long without admitting it.
"I need to tell you something," Eddie said, his voice rough. "And I need you to just... let me get it out. Okay?"
Buck's expression shifted, concern mixing with something else—something that looked like hope. "Okay."
Eddie took a deep breath. "Eight years," he started. "We've known each other for eight years. You walked into the 118 and into my life, and everything changed. You became my best friend. My partner. The person I trust most in the world."
Buck was very still, his eyes locked on Eddie's face.
"And somewhere along the way," Eddie continued, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, "I fell in love with you. I don't know when it happened. Maybe it was gradual. Maybe it was all at once and I just didn't let myself see it. But Buck, I—" His voice cracked. "I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time."
The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Eddie watched Buck's face, trying to read his expression, terrified of what he might see there. Rejection. Pity. Disgust.
But what he saw was none of those things.
Buck's eyes were bright, his lips parted in surprise, and when he spoke, his voice was shaking. "Eddie. I—" He took a step forward. "I've been in love with you for years. I thought—I thought I was going crazy. Thought I was reading things into our friendship that weren't there."
Eddie's knees went weak with relief. "You love me?"
"So much it scares me sometimes." Buck took another step closer. "But I didn't think—you were married. You have Christopher. I thought you were straight."
"So did I," Eddie admitted. "Or maybe I just told myself I was because it was easier than admitting the truth. But Buck, I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that what I feel for you is just friendship. I can't keep lying to myself."
They were standing close now, close enough that Eddie could feel the heat radiating off Buck's body. Close enough that he could see the flecks of darker blue in Buck's eyes, the way his chest was rising and falling with quick breaths.
"I'm scared," Eddie whispered. "I've never done this before. Never been with a man. Never wanted anyone the way I want you. And I don't know what I'm doing, but I know—" He reached out, his hand trembling as he touched Buck's chest, feeling his heartbeat racing beneath his palm. "I know I need you. I need this."
Buck's hand came up to cover Eddie's, pressing it more firmly against his chest. "I'm scared too," he admitted. "Scared of messing this up. Scared of losing you if this doesn't work. But Eddie, I've wanted you for so long. Wanted to touch you, kiss you, be with you. And if you're saying what I think you're saying—"
"I want you to kiss me," Eddie said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I need you to kiss me, Buck. Please."
Buck's free hand came up to cup Eddie's face, his thumb brushing across Eddie's cheekbone. "You're sure? Because once we do this, once we cross this line—"
"I'm sure." Eddie leaned into Buck's touch, his eyes falling closed for a moment. "I've never been more sure of anything."
Buck made a sound low in his throat, and then he was closing the distance between them. Eddie's eyes flew open just as Buck's lips touched his, and the world tilted on its axis.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like they were both afraid of breaking something precious. Buck's lips were warm and gentle against Eddie's, and Eddie felt something in his chest crack open, eight years of denial and fear and longing pouring out all at once.
Eddie's hands came up to grip Buck's hoodie, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepened. Buck's tongue traced the seam of Eddie's lips and Eddie opened for him, gasping at the first touch of Buck's tongue against his. It was nothing like kissing a woman. Buck was all strength and heat and masculine energy, and Eddie felt like he was drowning in the best possible way.
Buck's arms wrapped around Eddie's waist, pulling him flush against his body, and Eddie could feel every hard plane of muscle, every inch of Buck pressed against him. He made a sound—half moan, half whimper—and Buck swallowed it, kissing him deeper, harder.
Eddie's hands slid up into Buck's hair, tugging, and Buck groaned into his mouth. The sound sent heat straight to Eddie's cock, and he realized with a jolt that he was hard, achingly hard, just from kissing Buck.
They broke apart, both breathing hard, and Eddie stared at Buck with wide eyes. Buck's lips were red and swollen, his pupils blown wide, and he looked at Eddie like he wanted to devour him.
"Holy shit," Eddie breathed.
"Yeah." Buck's hands were still on Eddie's waist, his grip almost bruising. "That was—"
"Everything," Eddie finished. "That was everything."
Buck leaned his forehead against Eddie's, and they stood there for a moment, just breathing each other in. Eddie felt like he was vibrating out of his skin, every nerve ending on fire, his whole body screaming for more.
"I want you," Eddie whispered against Buck's lips. "I want all of you. I want—" He broke off, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of his own desire. "I don't know what I'm doing, Buck. I don't know how to do this."
"We'll figure it out together." Buck kissed him again, soft and sweet. "We don't have to rush. We can take our time."
But Eddie shook his head. "I don't want to take my time. I've wasted eight years already. I want—" He pulled back enough to look Buck in the eyes. "I want you to take me to bed. I want you to show me what this can be. Please, Buck."
Buck's eyes darkened with desire, but there was tenderness there too. "You're sure? We can just kiss. We can—"
"I'm sure." Eddie kissed him again, pouring all his certainty, all his need, into it. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want you, Buck. All of you. Tonight."
Buck groaned, his hands tightening on Eddie's waist. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay, Eddie. I've got you. I'll take care of you."
And as Buck kissed him again, deeper this time, more demanding, Eddie felt the last of his fear melt away. This was right. This was real. This was everything he'd been denying himself for eight years.
He was in love with Evan Buckley, and Evan Buckley loved him back.
Everything else, they'd figure out together
Eddie led Buck to his bedroom, his heart pounding with anticipation and nerves. He'd been with women before—he knew how sex worked, knew what to do—but this was different. This was Buck. This was everything.
Buck's hands were gentle as he pulled Eddie's shirt over his head, his fingers trailing over Eddie's skin with reverence. "You're beautiful," Buck murmured, and Eddie felt heat flood his face.
"Shut up," he said, but there was no bite to it. He reached for Buck's shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. "You're the beautiful one."
Buck laughed softly, but the sound died as Eddie's hands moved to his belt. They undressed each other slowly, taking their time, learning each other's bodies. Eddie's breath caught when Buck's pants came off and he saw Buck's cock—thick and long and already hard.
"Jesus, Buck," Eddie breathed. "You're—"
"Too much?" Buck asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"Perfect," Eddie corrected, reaching out to wrap his hand around Buck's length. Buck groaned at the touch, his hips jerking forward slightly. "You're perfect."
They moved to the bed, and Eddie pushed Buck down onto his back, climbing over him. This felt right—being on top, being in control. Eddie had always been the one to take charge, and this was no different.
He kissed Buck deeply as he settled between his legs, his cock pressing against Buck's hip. Buck's hands roamed over Eddie's back, his touch both soothing and inflaming.
"I want to be inside you," Eddie murmured against Buck's lips. "Want to feel you. Is that—is that okay?"
"Yes," Buck breathed, his eyes dark with desire. "Yes, Eddie. I want that too."
Eddie reached for the lube on the nightstand—he'd bought it weeks ago, though he hadn't admitted to himself why—and slicked his fingers. Buck spread his legs wider, and Eddie felt a surge of confidence as he pressed one finger inside.
Buck gasped, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing. "That's good," he murmured. "Keep going."
Eddie worked him open carefully, adding fingers one at a time, watching Buck's face for any sign of discomfort. But Buck just looked blissful, his head thrown back, soft moans falling from his lips.
"Eddie," Buck gasped as Eddie's fingers found his prostate. "Fuck, right there."
Eddie felt powerful, in control, watching Buck fall apart under his touch. This was what he'd expected—what he'd always thought sex with a man would be like. He would be the one in charge, the one giving pleasure, the one on top.
When Buck was ready, Eddie slicked his cock and lined himself up. "You sure?" he asked one more time.
"So sure," Buck said, reaching up to cup Eddie's face. "I want you, Eddie. All of you."
Eddie pushed inside slowly, and the feeling was incredible—tight and hot and perfect. Buck's body welcomed him, and Eddie groaned as he bottomed out.
"Okay?" he asked, holding still to let Buck adjust.
"More than okay," Buck breathed. "You feel amazing."
Eddie started to move, slow at first, then faster as Buck urged him on. The pleasure was intense, building with every thrust. Buck's hands gripped Eddie's shoulders, his legs wrapped around Eddie's waist, and the sounds he was making—soft gasps and moans—were driving Eddie wild.
"That's it," Eddie murmured, his confidence growing with every thrust. "Taking me so well, Buck. Feel so good."
Buck's cock was hard between them, leaking onto his stomach, and Eddie reached down to wrap his hand around it. Buck cried out at the touch, his body clenching around Eddie's cock.
"Eddie," Buck gasped. "I'm close. I'm—"
"Come for me," Eddie commanded, and Buck did, his whole body shaking as he came over Eddie's hand and his own stomach.
The feeling of Buck clenching around him pushed Eddie over the edge, and he came with a groan, filling Buck with heat.
They lay tangled together afterward, both breathing hard, and Eddie felt satisfied, content. This was good. This was right. He'd been the top, just like he'd always assumed he would be, and it had been amazing.
But as Buck's breathing evened out, as Eddie felt himself softening inside Buck, a thought crept into his mind.
What did Buck sound like when he was being fucked?
Eddie had heard Buck's moans, his gasps, the way he'd cried out when he came. But those were the sounds of someone being topped by a first-timer, someone being careful and gentle.
What would Buck sound like if he let go completely? What sounds would he make if he was the one in control, the one taking what he wanted? What would it feel like to hear Buck cry out in pleasure while he was the one being filled?
The thought sent an unexpected jolt of heat through Eddie's body.
"Buck," Eddie said softly, pulling out carefully. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything," Buck murmured, turning to face him.
Eddie hesitated, suddenly nervous. "What's it like? Being—being on the bottom?"
Buck's eyes widened slightly. "It's... intense. Vulnerable. But in a good way. When it's with someone you trust, someone you love, it's incredible."
Eddie's heart was pounding. "Would you—" He swallowed hard. "Would you show me? I want to know what it feels like."
Buck sat up, studying Eddie's face. "You want me to top you?"
"I want to understand," Eddie said, and it was true. He needed to know. Needed to feel what Buck had felt. "I want to know what you experienced. What it's like to—to surrender like that."
Buck's expression softened with understanding and desire. "Okay," he said gently. "But we'll go slow. I'll take care of you."
Eddie nodded, his mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. Buck reached for the lube, slicking his fingers, and Eddie lay back, spreading his legs.
"Relax," Buck murmured, his free hand stroking Eddie's thigh. "I've got you."
The first press of Buck's finger was strange—not painful, but foreign. Eddie tensed instinctively, and Buck paused.
"Breathe," Buck said softly. "Just breathe, Eddie."
Eddie forced himself to relax, and Buck's finger slid in deeper. The sensation was overwhelming—not quite pleasure, not quite discomfort, but something in between that made Eddie's breath catch.
"How does it feel?" Buck asked, his voice low and soothing.
"Different," Eddie gasped. "It's—keep going."
Buck added a second finger, and Eddie felt the stretch, felt his body opening for Buck. It was vulnerable in a way he'd never experienced before, exposing himself like this, letting Buck inside him.
And then Buck's fingers found something inside him—some spot that made Eddie see stars.
"Fuck!" Eddie cried out, his hips jerking up. "What was—do that again."
Buck did, his fingers pressing against Eddie's prostate, and pleasure shot through Eddie's body like lightning. His cock, which had been soft, started to harden again.
"That's your prostate," Buck murmured, a smile in his voice. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Eddie gasped, his hands fisting in the sheets. "God, yes."
Buck worked him open with patient care, adding a third finger, and Eddie felt himself falling apart. Every touch sent waves of pleasure through him, every stretch made him gasp. He'd never felt anything like this—never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so completely at Buck's mercy.
And he loved it.
"Buck," Eddie breathed, his whole body trembling. "I need—I need more."
"More fingers?" Buck asked, but Eddie shook his head frantically.
"No. I need—" He looked up at Buck, his eyes wild with need. "I need your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Buck."
Buck's eyes darkened with desire, but he shook his head gently. "Not tonight, Eddie. You're not ready. We need to take our time—"
"I don't want to take our time," Eddie said desperately, the same words he'd used earlier but with completely different meaning now. "I need it, Buck. I need to feel you."
"Tomorrow," Buck promised, his fingers still moving inside Eddie, still hitting that perfect spot. "We have shift tomorrow. We'll find time. But tonight, let me just—let me make you feel good like this."
Eddie wanted to argue, wanted to beg, but then Buck's fingers pressed against his prostate again and he lost the ability to form words. Buck worked him with his hand and his fingers until Eddie was writhing on the bed, desperate and aching and so close to the edge.
"Come for me," Buck murmured, and Eddie did, his cock untouched, his whole body clenching around Buck's fingers as pleasure crashed over him.
He lay there afterward, boneless and satisfied but also desperately unsatisfied. Because now he knew. Now he understood what he'd been missing, what he needed.
He needed Buck's cock inside him. Needed to feel that stretch, that fullness, that complete surrender. Needed to hear what sounds he would make when Buck was fucking him, needed to know what it felt like to be claimed and taken and filled.
As Buck cleaned them both up and pulled Eddie close, Eddie's mind was already racing. They had shift tomorrow. Twelve hours together at the station. Twelve hours of wanting and needing and not being able to have.
He'd find a way. He'd get Buck alone somehow. The showers, maybe, or the truck bay, or anywhere they could steal a few minutes of privacy.
Because Eddie Diaz had just discovered something about himself that changed everything.
He wasn't a top. He was a bottom. And he needed Buck's cock inside him more than he needed his next breath.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough