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Buck was a patient man.
He didn’t quite seem like one – history wise –, but yes, he was a patient man.
His calmness and tranquility often spread to his family, as one might imagine. He had to have a lot of patience growing up, to face his parents, and even more so when he wasn’t a child anymore, to keep himself from murdering Doug.
All in all, he’d have slip-ups while on the job. People he wanted to save, people he couldn’t save, and people he didn’t want to save. It led to situations that could paint him in a somewhat reckless or imprudent light. God knows better than anyone that Bobby called him as much, referring to him as filled with impotence behind closed doors.
At least, during the first year that he served at the firehouse.
Things smoothed over once he understood how to control his surface-level feelings. After sessions with a real therapist that conveniently knew how to pickpocket his hidden emotions, Buck started reacting to things differently.
If he were to tell his own story, he’d say that the last time he didn’t think something through was the lawsuit. Every other decision he had made since then, might have seem rushed or incorrect to the naked eye, but they all, without exception, had a reason behind them. Granted, some of them had fallen in the same bag as the consequences of prior actions, but by the time he had a real family to protect, he could no longer disregard himself as expendable.
Particularly not after Eddie.
Thing is, Buck was a firm believer that most things had a natural limit. You could eat and drink all you wanted, but at some point, your body would make you stop; same with sex, and sleeping, and most bodily-related things.
Just like that, Buck believed so of character traits.
You could love someone unconditionally, and still not support a decision that infringed your principles; you could hate someone with all your heart, and still not wish them death.
And you could be the most patient man in the world, and still run out of it.
So, in reality, it was rather easy for Buck to come to terms with the fact that he had ran out of patience.
He had waited, and waited, and waited, beyond what a common person in his same situation would. He had told himself it’d be worth it, and that he’d be rewarded for his patience, but in the end, time had stretched thinner and further away from his expectations, and it had left him tasting bitterness, and jealousness, and every single other emotion that fell on the opposite scale of prizes.
At the very end, all his patience had led to punishment.
That had had a consequence of its own.
Marching decisively inside the firehouse with the motive he carried around like a gym bag, wasn’t something he’d necessarily thought would happen this year. Maybe someday, some year, but not now. Definitely not the present day, at this time.
Funniest thing of all, was how easily a single person had triggered a knee-jerk reaction he had stored and locked away. More than anything, he had promised himself, and his Captain, that he’d give things a long and hard second thought before seeing them through. It had worked for the most part to stay out of trouble in the shakiest of times – like when Eddie had been trapped underground, or when he had been shot.
Now it seemed like taming a lion with a feather. So, in simpler words, not that easy.
His second, and third, and even fourth thought had propelled him to carry on. To do the thing he had sworn he wouldn’t. To simply break a promise to himself in the hopes that it wouldn’t mean that much, considering no one else would really know.
He could fool himself all he wanted to.
And he wanted to.
Eddie was a complicated part of his life. He was everything, but also, somehow, nothing. Meeting him had been a rollercoaster through a forest – so like, with highs and lows, but also definitely getting a few leaves inside your lungs type-deal.
It made him a different person.
Ever since their actual acquiescence, a cold, cold, bucket of water had fallen on his head.
See, Buck had been relatively aware, from very early on, that his feelings towards Eddie were… different. They couldn’t line up with how he felt about Bobby, or Chim, or Hen. At some point in his life he thought he could compare them to the ones for Taylor, but, in the end, he had been wrong there, too.
Putting a name on those feelings had seemed like a futile experiment, so he had desisted. He didn’t need to name them, in order to make them real. No, his trembling hands and his over-excited heart were enough proof that they were solid as a rock. He was in love with Edmundo Díaz, and carving himself up in little pieces wouldn’t extinguish the fire that that same realization had caused, for his love had spread to every inch of his skin.
Love requires a lot of work, which people often forget. They want easy, and fast, and satisfying, but aren’t willing to go through hard, and slow, and frustrating. Buck was. He had been more than willing to obliterate obstacles with the bare palms of his hands if it meant earning the honor of holding Eddie – within reason.
At the end of the day, he knew he couldn’t hold a grown man through it all.
The firehouse was his home. It was more home, actually, than any other roof he had ever known. His parents’ house had never been more than that: someone else’s, while Abby’s apartment and his loft had fallen down the same drain. His last two girlfriends had come with couches, and that’s the part he remembered the most about them.
Nothing had ever truly been his.
Until firefighting, of course. For the 118.
Even without Eddie – as in, before Eddie –, the team played the part of his family. Chim and Hen were his siblings, while Bobby was his father. Some people came and went, but now he felt comfortable enough to call Ravi his little brother.
Eddie was the only one who seemed to strut around without a title, and it messed with Buck’s head. Not because he couldn’t figure out which one to assign him, but because the one he craved, kept getting snatched away from his hands. By women.
Competing with Shannon would have been a fool’s mission. She wasn’t particularly a threat. She was Chris’ mother, and Eddie’s wife – sorta. Buck wanted Christopher to have a mother because he loved him. It was as easy as that. And Eddie? Well, from the very moment he introduced her to him, Buck knew they didn’t stand a chance. He simply had to wait.
And for the record, he did.
Buck never wished for her to die, and he beat himself up about the relief he felt when she did for the longest of times, pretty much until his therapist conveyed in quiet words his much-needed pardon. ‘You’re not happy she died, you’re happy she’s out of the picture.’
Still, what an awful thing to be happy about. Buck knew what she truly meant, though. Watching the man you love with someone he loved in return was a hard sight. He might’ve never loved her romantically, or maybe, they weren’t meant to be. Either way, Buck never wanted to wipe her out completely, like one does with trash. He wanted her to stop being a candidate for Eddie to consider.
Ana was a little different. She had represented Buck’s fears in a way no one else had before. She had gifted him a bouquet of roses, where each flower screamed ‘you’re about to lose him forever.’ For a moment there, Buck genuinely believed they were going to stay together. But at last, Eddie had been the one to run away.
He hadn’t run towards him, though.
By the time Marisol made an appearance, Buck was starting to lose it. He’d often sigh and roll his eyes and remind himself patience was a virtue – and if Hen had caught him once or twice, then that was between her and God. As long as Eddie hadn’t seen him, he couldn’t be made responsible for his feelings and the way they’d slip from under the creaks of his face in the times he couldn’t keep the lid closed.
Thing is that time’s a dangerous tool. If you have too much of it, you forget to appreciate it, but if you have too little, you forget to enjoy it. Buck didn’t have a lot of time yet continued to act like he had all of it. Now he was reaping the consequences of wasting it.
Eddie was a wonderful man. He was kind, and funny, and appreciative, and he made Buck’s pulse jump and skip beats. However, he wasn’t particularly clever. Smart, sure, but oblivious as all hell. That’s exactly the reason why Buck couldn’t really be offended if after all these years, Eddie truly didn’t know about his feelings for him. He could’ve been walking around with a pink banner and the words ‘I’m in love with you, Eddie’ in bold fuchsia, and the man would’ve still thought it was for somebody else.
So, now that there was a window, he couldn’t bear to lose it. Eddie was single, and Buck was single, and he couldn’t wait anymore for him to turn around and finally ask himself whether there was something else going on. With Buck’s luck, Eddie would convince himself there wasn’t. This was his moment. This was it.
And he was going to wing it.
Not the smartest choice, but all those years preparing words in front of a mirror had done him no good, so why keep beating a dead horse? If things went well, they weren’t really going to speak.
“Buck, hey,” called Hen from the side, pushing herself off the truck, where she had been leaning, “what are you doing here?”
“Pending business,” he muttered, a little too fast, shooting her a polite smile and continuing on his quest.
He could sense his target from a mile away. It was like he had a built-in tracker. Eddie could be turning the car around on his street and the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up. Don’t get him wrong, he’d never complain. The man was quiet and reserved, and it was nice to know he could localize him almost immediately from pretty much anywhere in the world – if he was allowed to get cocky.
Besides, if there was one thing he could recognize, was the back of his head. It was hard to explain, but the shape of it was so Eddie, he’d put his hands on a burning stove to prove he could point him out in a crowd.
As soon as the firetruck was out of sight, he spotted him. With his back turned to him, his hands moved diligently, doing God’s know what inside his locker. He thought about approaching him, about making this a little more… private. But turns out he didn’t have it in him no more. “Díaz!” Buck called, rejoicing in the immediate reaction he got.
“Buck?” Eddie asked, his face contracting in all kinds of confusion.
Admittedly, this wasn’t a normal interaction for them. Usually, Buck would play the part of the servile friend, who just wanted the best for him; who’d go above and beyond for his comfort. Today, that man was nowhere to be found. Maybe he had had enough.
“Wanna make out?”
His throat felt the sting of the words, tightening at the inevitability of what he had just done. There was no turning back now.
He had finally dented the invisible wall they had both built over the years.
He finally had a chance.
Eddie blinked. Understandably so, by the way. He licked his lips, frowned, and took a step forward. “Excuse me?”
Buck inhaled softly, somehow encouraging himself even more. “I said, do you wanna make out?”
The repetition made Eddie’s brain turn into goo. So, he hadn’t heard wrong. “I-,”
Buck looked at him, eyes wandering down his body indiscreetly, a tug of a smirk appearing on his face, accompanied by thoughts he had deemed immoral long ago. Not for the content, but for the subject. Now? Standing here, in the middle of the firehouse, as his best friends in the world stared in horror, and the love of his life processed the choice he had to make? He couldn’t really categorize them as anything other than his anymore. He had presented him with a gift, one he could choose to open or return. Either way, he had set it on the table, and he could finally own it.
Eddie swallowed, standing up straighter. He took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Buck smiled. “Follow me, then.”
For the very first time, silence befriended him, reassuring him that once he turned around, Eddie did, in fact, follow him. His steps were timid. Unsure, even. Buck was sure he could remedy that in no time.
He knew Eddie didn’t quite believe in luck – or destiny, for that matter – but he did, and the fact that the door to the supply closet was unlocked meant the universe was on his side. He twisted the doorknob, practically shoving the man inside and closing the door behind him.
Without giving him much time to think, Buck inched closer, trapping him between the door and his body. Eddie’s breath hitched, looking at him in something like horror and excitement, analyzing his features, and glancing down to his lips every so often. “Buck…,” he whispered, blinking up.
Buck got even closer, crowding every part of his body with his hands, finally deciding to put them on his hips. “Yes?”
Eddie shivered. He was shivering. Buck raised an eyebrow, crossing his thumb forcefully over his hipbones, riding his LAFD shirt up. “Buck, ah-, you- what-?”
A dark laugh ripped out of him. He threw his head back for a second before returning his attention to him. His eyes steadied, staring in hunger. “You wanna make reason of this, or do you wanna walk the walk?”
Eddie swallowed audibly. He hesitated, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Each time, Buck would glance between his eyes and his lips, opening his own mouth as if in mockery. “Fuck, Buck,” he whispered, his heart beating out of his chest. “Let’s- let’s do it.”
His hand slid from his hip to the small of his back, pushing them closer with a grunt, their bulges bumping hard. Buck’s chest rumbled. As he was taller, he stared down at him, a wolfish grin eating away at his face. Eddie breathed in, supporting himself on Buck’s arms.
Buck pressed their foreheads together, the excitement and anticipation running through his veins like fire. His licked Eddie’s lower lip, which trembled at the contact. Their breaths ran hot, sweat going down their backs. “I’m gonna swallow your every moan,” Buck declared, closing the distance and capturing his lips in one motion.
Buck’s tongue bullied himself inside, pushing Eddie’s violently. He melted under his grip, allowing him permission and space, tasting his mouth in return.
His nails dug on the soft skin of Eddie’s sides, leaving claw marks behind, pressing him closer to him as he devoured every bit he was offered.
The force was enough to push him against the door again, slamming the back of his head. Buck’s other hand traveled up, putting it on the sore spot so he’d take all the heat of another slam. Eddie moaned at the gesture, opening his mouth even more.
In a tease, Buck pulled partly away, letting Eddie chase his lips in desperate little moves. He smirked, letting him embarrass himself. He opened his eyes, staring in plea. “Buck…,” he trailed off, his brows pushed together in half pleasure.
Buck pushed him again, harder this time. He could feel him hard against his thigh. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, hovering over him like a beast. He pushed his index down the waistband of his pants, prompting a soft gasp out of him. Buck ate it, kissing him fast.
“I- I want you,” Eddie moaned, declaring himself. “Please.”
The addition made Buck leak, a drop of precum staining his underwear. He grabbed Eddie’s hand, making him cup him through his jeans. “This is what you want?”
Eddie’s hand hesitated, but only for a second. He grabbed it firmly, giving it a pump from the outside. Buck hissed, licking over his lower lip and watching Eddie desperately follow his tongue. “Yes,” he answered, inches away.
Buck trapped Eddie’s hand between them, pushing their mouths together again, roughly. He ate him in decided little bites, drawing blood from the plump middle. He moaned, staining his own lips on purpose. Anything Eddie’s he’d taste.
“Please,” he pleaded, cupping Buck again and curling his other hand on his hair, pulling him down.
With an approving sound, Buck detangled himself from Eddie, leaving the man to stand on his own, in weak knees and heavy breaths. “Tonight,” he announced. “At my loft.”
Eddie moaned in anguish, sighing. “Please, I-,” he tried, grabbing himself through his pants. “I don’t think I can wait.”
He stared at him languidly, trying to convince him to take him right there and then. Buck smirked, nodding. He walked closer, grabbing him by the neck and moving him to the side, so he’d free his way out. “I can,” he replied, choking him with the tips of his fingers until he opened his mouth to breathe.
He put him down with a grin, walking out the door without looking back.
After all, Buck was a patient man.