Work Text:
Eddie remembers perfectly the first time he looked at a boy and thought wow.
He was twelve years old. It was a scorching summer even by El Paso’s standards, and Eddie and his friends - like everyone else in town - were trying to cool off at the pool. But it was too hot, and too loud, and Eddie could barely hear himself think, let alone what his friends were shouting to him. He was considering maybe just going home, finding a shady patch in the back garden and lying there with an ice-cold lemonade and his newest Spider-Man comic.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw this kid walking by. He was tall and gangly with bright red hair, sunburn on his nose, and thick-framed glasses. When he smiled Eddie’s insides turned all gooey and warm, and his heart did something weird in his chest.
He didn’t leave the pool until closing time.
He never saw the kid again. And when school started back up all of his friends were talking about girls - how pretty they were and how nice they smelled, and Luis told Eddie about the way his heart started to beat really fast every time Julia walked into the room. And Eddie knew exactly what that felt like, but he somehow knew he should keep the how of it to himself.
And then at thanksgiving he heard his Abuelo say qué maricón de mierda about some singer on the TV. His whole family laughed, and Eddie felt his heart twisting into something ugly and uncomfortable.
He never let himself think about another boy again.
(Jesse from his sophomore year science class didn’t count. Neither did Shannon’s friend, Toby. Or Malachi from bootcamp. Looking isn’t the same as thinking.)
The first thing Eddie thinks when he meets Buck is what a fucking asshole. The second thing he thinks is oh no. Because Buck is just so pretty - there isn’t really another way to describe him. He’s got those angel eyes, and soft blond curls, and Eddie is fairly certain the sun rises and sets with his god damn smile.
It helps that Buck hates his guts, until, of course, Buck doesn’t hate him anymore. Because then Buck is showing up at his house, and playing with his kid, and picking up his fucking groceries. He slots into Eddie’s life in a way that no one has done since - well. Since Shannon.
It’s a big fucking problem, actually.
Ana is the answer to all of Eddie’s prayers. She’s smarter than he’ll ever be, amazing with Christopher, and more patient and understanding than Eddie probably deserves. She’s also beautiful, like - the Disney princess kind of perfect most people could only dream of. Eddie couldn’t ask for anyone more fitting for him and Christopher.
He’s lucky, really. He is.
It’s not a big deal that he can’t bring himself to introduce her to the team yet. It doesn’t matter that he can barely stand to do more than kiss her on the cheek, because they’re just taking it slow. And it makes sense that he’d want Buck to be Christopher’s guardian over her, right? Buck knows Chris better - gets what he needs, and what Eddie would want for him. It isn’t like, a thing.
It’s not even a thing when the store clerk calls Ana Chris’ mom and Eddie has to go to hospital over it. It’s fine.
Ana is perfect, and Chris loves her, and Eddie should too. He does. Or, he will. He’s trying. Because he can’t stomach the thought of what it might mean if he doesn’t. He can’t bear to remember the way his family laughed when Abuelo said those words, or the smirks of the guys at bootcamp when they’d called Malachi a cocksucker.
And he can’t handle the shame that pools in his stomach like something toxic every time he thinks - no. No. He doesn’t think anything at all. Not about men, and certainly not about Buck. He’s not a - he isn’t like that. It’s fine, y’know, if other people are. He doesn’t, like, have a problem with it or whatever. He just isn’t. It’s not how he was raised and it’s not who he wants to be.
(I’m not, I’m not, I’m not, he’d prayed every night before bed, back when he was twelve, and thirteen, and fourteen. Please, God. I’m not. Don’t let me be.)
It’s hot, like that summer back in El Paso all those years ago. Buck is watching Eddie, with his honest eyes and a concerned twist to his mouth. Eddie just wants to hide - black it all out like the rest of the city has done, avoid the conversation that he knows Buck wants to have.
And he’s not - he’s not. But he’s never really been able to deny Buck anything.
Buck says, “That’s not the way you talk about someone you’re in love with.”
And maybe he’s right; maybe he’ll never love Ana the way he wishes so desperately that he could. But love is - love is juvenile. It’s the thing you search for before the real world drags you, kicking and screaming, back to your senses. He’d loved Shannon but that hadn’t been enough to make either of them stay, so why does he need it now? What they have is enough. It is. It has to be.
“My kid loves her,” Eddie says.
(My kid, as if Buck doesn’t already treat Christopher like his own. As if all the best parts of him haven’t come from Buck.)
There’s sadness in Buck’s eyes when he says that. Eddie can feel it in the way he looks at him, the way that hurt travels all the way to his heart and makes a home for itself there like it belongs - like Buck belongs. And he does belong, he’s family, he’s just. He’s not what Eddie is allowed to want.
“Is that enough?”
There’s anger too, maybe. Only a little, but Eddie is an expert in all things Buck by now. He can hear the bitterness in the words, like Buck laced them with poison before he opened his mouth to speak them. And maybe Eddie knows why, or he would if he dared to just let himself think about it. But that’s too much, too close to the edge that Eddie has spent his entire life avoiding.
If he loses his balance he doesn’t think he’d be able to pull himself back from this - from Buck - and he just can’t let himself fall. Not even if Buck is at the bottom, waiting to catch him.
So he lays back down and closes his eyes until Buck walks away, but he knows that sleep won’t find him now. Not when his chest is tight and he can’t catch his breath. It suddenly feels like he’s back on that street all those months ago, a bullet in his shoulder as he reaches his hand out for - someone. But he’s too scared this time, because he knows that Buck will always reach back, and he just. Can’t. He can’t.
It’s early when Eddie feels someone shaking his shoulder to wake him. He’s not sure when he managed to fall asleep, but he opens one eye and squints against the morning sunlight that’s filtering into the station.
“Sorry,” Ravi whispers. “It’s just your - well. Ana is here.”
Eddie sits upright instantly, fear curling in his stomach as all the possibilities run through his head. She brought Chris just yesterday, there would be no need for her to come again unless something was wrong.
“She said everything’s fine!” Ravi clarifies. “She just wants to talk, if you’re not busy.”
Eddie breathes deeply. In and out.
“Thanks, probie.”
He makes his way through the hustle and bustle of the packed station - some of them eating, some sleeping, others waiting patiently to recharge their phones. For some reason it kind of reminds Eddie of being back in the army.
He sees Ana before she sees him. She’s just standing there, looking down at her feet as she rolls a stone back and forth beneath her shoe. She looks so out of place here, in this building that’s filled with friends who are more like family to Eddie and Chris. It’s like Ana, and his work and his people, are two separate parts of his life that shouldn’t ever meet. He doesn’t think it’s supposed to feel like that.
Buck’s voice comes into his head. Is that enough?
“Hey,” he greets her, and even Eddie knows that his voice sounds a little off.
She looks up quickly, and smiles when she seems him approaching. She really is lovely, but almost in the way a painting is - like she’s nice to look at, but what’s he supposed to do with her? She doesn’t make his heart race. It’s an ugly thought. Especially when his next one is Buck leaves me breathless, sometimes, and he’s too tired to try and fight it off.
“Eddie, hi. Sorry if I disturbed you,” she says, and it sounds like she means it too.
(Buck once let himself into Eddie’s house, followed the sound of running water, and then proceeded to sit on the toilet seat as he broke the news that Maddie was pregnant. All while Eddie was in the shower.)
“It’s fine,” Eddie assures her. “Come on, we’ll go somewhere a little quieter.”
Somewhere a little quieter ends up being Bobby’s office, which makes the whole thing feel awfully formal - Eddie perched on the desk and Ana sitting in the chair like it’s some kind of meeting.
He has to remind himself to breathe. In and out.
“Is everything okay?” He asks.
Ana nods. “Yeah, yeah of course. Carla took over from watching Chris last night, everything is fine.”
And - hm. Eddie’s not sure he likes the way she worded that. ‘Took over’, like watching Chris is some kind of job for her? Maybe he’s overreacting. Probably. It’s just - Buck has shown up and stolen Chris from him on more than one occasion, just so he can spend more time with him, yet Ana talks about it like it’s work.
“I just wanted to apologise, if I overstepped by coming here yesterday.”
You did, Eddie thinks instinctively.
That’s an ugly thought too, especially when she brought Christopher, and food, and just wanted to help. But the firehouse and the 118 are the one part of his life that Ana hasn’t infiltrated yet - that he gets to keep separate, just for himself and his son. Eddie should get to pick who he lets see this place, and meet his people, and he didn’t ask her to come. You ask your partner to come, and Ana-
Is his partner, has been for months now. So why does this feel so stifling? It’s not just the heat that’s making him want to crack a window.
“It’s okay, I was happy to see Christopher,” he says, because it’s the truth and he doesn’t want to lie.
A sad smile crosses Ana’s face, and it’s only as she nods her head in understanding that Eddie realises what he said and how it sounds.
“But not me.” It isn’t a question.
Eddie can feel panic starting to claw it’s way out of his chest. It’s lodged in his throat and when he tries to speak, he can’t get the words out around it. They come out strangled and choked when he finally tells her, “That isn’t what I said.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He’s scrambling now, searching for something to hold on to, something to keep this thing going. Because, whatever it is that they have, it’s good for Chris. It should be good for both of them. And he wants to want her, he does. It’s just - why can’t he fucking breathe whenever she’s around?
And fuck, why is he trying so hard to keep this going? Sure, she’s the only woman he’s wanted to spend time with since Shannon, but it’s hard to remember why he’s working so hard for this when -
The door opens a fraction and Buck’s face appears in the gap.
His brow furrows when he takes in Eddie’s disheveled appearance and he pushes the door open further, only to falter when he realises that Ana is sitting there too. He meets Eddie’s eyes and a pained look flitters across his face for a half second before he forces a smile. (It’s not Buck’s, not the one Eddie knows and loves so well).
“Sorry, was looking for Bobby,” he announces, then closes the door and leaves them alone again.
Eddie can’t seem to look away.
He can’t breathe.
He’s reaching again - across the asphalt, into fires, over cliff edges - for Buck. Always, always Buck. He’s reaching through a lifetime of shame, and years of longing, and a tangled mess of trauma.
And then it hits him like a freight train - the sudden, startling clarity of it all: none of it was ever about Ana.
The comparisons, the missing pieces, the way she never quite seems to fit. It has always been about Buck. There’s no room for Ana in their lives when Buck has already made a home with them - when his clothes are in Eddie’s drawers, and his favourite cereal is in the cupboard, and he knows how to do Chris’ stretches with him. Buck knows when the physio and hospital appointments are, what triggers Eddie’s PTSD, and how they like their damn pancakes in the morning.
Eddie can’t give his heart to Ana because it already belongs to Buck. And there’s still that twist of shame in his stomach when he realises - he can still hear his Abuelo’s voice echoing in his head. But it’s quieter now, and his love for Buck is so much louder.
He looks to Ana, opens his mouth to try and speak but closes it again when he can’t find the words. He can see by the look on her face that she knows exactly what’s just happened, and it’s not fair to her. She deserves so much better than anything Eddie could ever give her, and he wants to tell her that but he doesn’t even know where to begin without sounding like a terrible person.
She smiles, but a few tears escape her eyes and slip down her cheeks as she stands.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. Then, “Goodbye, Eddie.” She kisses him on the cheek like she’s done so many times before, and then with one last wave she leaves the room.
The door closes behind her and Eddie feels like he can breathe for the first time in months.
He waits for the panic to hit him - the aching chest and numb fingertips that have become so familiar to him lately. It doesn’t come, though. And the longer he sits there, the more settled he feels. It’s like all of his bones were broken before, and now they’ve just been set into place. Like he’s just found all of the parts of himself that he thought were missing. Like that nervous hum of energy underneath his skin has finally gone quiet.
And he could be patient - could give this all a little more time, but why should he? It feels like he’s been silent his whole life, like he’s been waiting for permission to finally let himself feel this. But the only person he needs permission from is himself, and he’s done fighting what is only inevitable.
Because this has been happening since the moment Buck climbed inside that ambulance with Eddie, not knowing if they’d make it out again. It’s in the way Eddie’s heart speeds up when he walks in the room, the way his eyes follow Buck wherever he goes. Or how Eddie can’t breathe when he is out of sight on a call, and how just one smile from Buck makes everything seem easier, brighter.
He’s been loving Buck this whole time, and Eddie is past ignoring it.
The kitchen is, for the first time in days, empty except for Buck. He looks like he came in here to do something but got distracted half way through and now he’s just gripping the edge of the counter, his head hanging down between his shoulders. The curls at the nape of his neck are damp with sweat, and his t-shirt is half un-tucked. Eddie can see the lines of tension in his back, and the way he’s positioned so his good leg is taking most of the weight but it isn’t obvious to anyone who doesn’t know to look for it.
They’re all tired after days of sleeping at the firehouse, away from their families, with crappy food and no air-con. But this looks different, there’s something in the way Buck is carrying this exhaustion that tells Eddie it’s about something more. He wishes Buck would let him carry some of the burden for him, but then again, neither of them are very good at letting people help.
Eddie clears his throat and Buck flinches, turning around to see who’s disturbed his moment of peace. He smiles when he sees that it’s Eddie.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Eddie replies. “What are you doing in the kitchen?”
Buck shrugs his shoulders. “It’s the only quiet place in here right now.”
Eddie nods in agreement. Even the bunk rooms and designated cot areas are filled with heavy breathing, and people sighing and snoring in their sleep. It’s kind of like when you host a party and it starts to get late, and you want to go to bed but no one is leaving.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, even though he thinks the answer is probably no.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” Buck lies. “Sorry, about before. I didn’t realise you two were in there.”
Eddie waves him off. “It’s fine, don’t even worry about it.”
“Is it, uh - fine? Between you and Ana?” He folds his arms across his chest as he asks.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I mean we broke up, but yeah.”
Buck winces. He moves as if he’s going to come towards Eddie, but then he stops himself and settles back against the counter. He scratches the back of his neck, right where his curls are damp, and Eddie just wants to touch him.
“Shit, I’m sorry man I didn’t mean-“
“-No, it’s fine. What you said was right, it wasn’t enough,” Eddie admits. “What I said was wrong though.”
Eddie can feel the way his pulse quickens as the words leave his mouth, because he knows what comes next and he knows there’s no taking it back. He’s spent so long swallowing his words that he’s not even sure if he knows how to say them anymore, but he’s willing to try for Buck. For them. For their family.
“I said I wasn’t ready for it, for the ready-made family, but that isn’t exactly true. I already have one, right in front of me.”
Eddie doesn’t feel like he’s in his body, and Buck is blinking slowly at him like he isn’t quite picking up what Eddie is putting down.
He takes a deep, trembling breath, then says, “It’s you, Buck. You and Christopher. You are my family.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“I don’t…I mean - what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you, Evan. I love this family we’ve built.”
Buck laughs. It’s bright, and warm, and disbelieving. Then his voice cracks, and there are tears in his eyes, and he’s looking at Eddie like he hung the fucking moon. Eddie has no idea what he could have possibly done to deserve being looked at like that, by someone as wholly beautiful as Buck.
“I love you too,” Buck whispers. “I love you, and Christopher, and us.”
Eddie has spent a lifetime stuck in silence, his teeth glued together with shame. He’s been missing Buck since before he even knew him, and waiting almost as long to hear those words coming from his mouth.
It’s like the final part of Eddie slots into place, and he feels whole for the first time in his life.
It’s blisteringly hot, the air sticky and wet, and there’s still no air-con to speak of. Eddie feels like he’s twelve years old again, and the boy across the room has angel eyes and curly blonde hair, and a smile that feels like coming home. Eddie takes a step closer, then another one.
With a shaking hand he reaches out, and Buck reaches right back.