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This isn’t something Buck has ever admitted aloud to anyone. Like, not even himself. it’s actually so embarrassing, so humiliating to even think about, that the mere thought of actually telling someone makes him want to crawl into a hole and die. No, he’s not being dramatic.
And honestly, looking back at that day, years later, after everything that had happened during that one shift, he figured it was simply something he’d made up in his head, fuelled by unexplainable jealousy and his coworkers’ comments.
Even when he realized he was interested in men—which made him look back and reevaluate many, many moments of his life—he chose not to look back on that one particular day. Just to be safe. Realizing he was bisexual in his thirties was certainly eye opening, made him understand that there were many, many instances throughout his teen and adult life, where he had found men attractive, and just didn’t have an explanation for those feelings yet.
Even so, that day— that particular moment, actually— wasn’t something he felt he needed to look over with a fine-tooth comb; whether that be because he didn’t think it to be necessary, or because he was terrified, petrified, horrified—okay, you get the picture—of what he might realize, if he let himself think too deeply about it.
Either way, he ignored it.
So, what if when he saw his now best friend Eddie Diaz for the first time all those years ago, he saw him moving in slow motion while the 1993 hit “Whatta Man” by Salt-N-Pepa played in the background? And how, when moving in slow motion, it looked like he was doing a strip tease, that was borderline pornographic, in the middle of the firehouse?
Okay, maybe he wasn’t stripping, per say. Or actually, not at all. But rather putting on his standard-issued LAFD navy blue t-shirt, something Buck himself had done just earlier that morning. The shirt itself wasn’t inherently sexual or inappropriate—he and the rest of the 118 wore them every single shift, and he never caught himself looking at Chimney or Bobby or Hen in any different kind of way when they wore it—but on Eddie, who at the time was a complete stranger to Buck, it looked downright obscene.
Should be illegal, quite frankly. Too indecent for the public’s eyes.
The sight had stopped Buck in his tracks, time slowing down as he took in every inch of visible skin; tight abs, muscles flexing against a taunt stomach, which slowly disappeared, as the man finished getting dressed across the station.
He never understood why their firehouse’s locker room had glass walls, but in that moment, he silently thanked whoever the architect was who worked on the building for station 118.
He knows he asked, “who the hell is that?” while he continued to ogle at the mystery man from across the station. He remembers his voice sounding rough in his ears, his throat dry as he tried—and failed—to tear his eyes away.
“Eddie Diaz, new recruit.” Bobby had responded. The name played on a loop in Buck’s mind—Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. “Whatta Man” faded slowly into the background, until all Buck could hear was the blood rushing through his ears—his palms feeling too sweaty and his heart beating too quickly— along with the man’s name, still echoing relentlessly in his head: Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
He may or may not have said something along the lines of “what do we need him for?” while many, many inappropriate thoughts of exactly what kind of needs this stranger, Eddie Diaz, could help him with, appeared in his brain. He tried to keep his voice as neutral as possible, failing spectacularly, if Chim and Hen’s reactions were anything to go by.
They all walked away, Chimney tapping him on the stomach, as he says something that Buck doesn’t catch. He stands there, frozen, feeling off balance, while the rest of the team introduces themselves to this Eddie Diaz. Eddie Diaz, who was now fully dressed, smiled brightly, a little timidly, as he adjusted his uniform collar. Buck remembers thinking he had a beautiful smile, before scowling and shaking his head, walking away from his new enemy, Eddie Diaz.
He rubs at the spot on his stomach where Chimney had tapped him, a sudden fluttering in his belly startling him as he looks back to his coworkers one more time. The fluttering only increasing as he notices Eddie laughing at something Hen had said. Chimney must’ve hit him harder than he realized.
Yeah, that’s gotta be it.
By the end of that shift, after hours of sulking and moping and starting petty fights to simply get Eddie’s attention, Eddie and he had extracted a bomb from a man’s leg. Suddenly, the smile he had been staring at from the beginning of the shift—wow, what a gorgeous smile—was now directed at him, as they shook hands. They promised to have each other’s backs. The fluttering in his stomach from before had returned, but before he could ponder the reason for it’s sudden return, the ambulance they had been in only moments before, exploded.
And that was that.
So, Buck never let himself dwell on that day for too long. If anyone ever asked about it, he’d simply laugh a little and shrug while explaining he was intimidated by Eddie’s arrival to the 118; scared that someone was trying to come in and take his place. It wasn’t a lie, necessarily. He had been intimidated and jealous of him.
That’s just not all it was.
So, as previously stated, this is not something he’s ever told anyone about. Ever. Had no reason to, really. Was a very easy thing to ignore and pretend never happened.
Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t ignore what was currently happening before him, right in front of his eyes. And what was happening, you may ask? Eddie, coming out of the ocean—somehow in slow motion, again—after he had just dived off a bridge into the water to save a man who was swallowed by a literal whale. Eddie, who was once again wearing his standard-issued LAFD navy blue t-shirt, was dripping wet as he was hauled back onto shore. The shirt clung to every single muscle of Eddie’s torso, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Buck had seen Eddie shirtless before, countless of times over the years; between changing in the locker room and helping each other shower when the other has been injured, Buck has seen Eddie in various states of undress. Hell, he’d seen the man naked, too; and he was used to averting his eyes, quickly.
As one does.
But this was much, much different.
Eddie currently looked like every single sex dream Buck has ever had come to life; dreams he refuses to acknowledge he’s ever had, only allowing himself to recall them in the moments after waking up, while in the privacy of his own bed. Dreams that left him gasping and panting as he rutted against his mattress, already so close to release from his dream, that it only took a few moments before he was coming, biting into his pillow to muffle his moans.
Buck couldn’t help but stare now. Couldn’t tear his eyes away if he wanted to.
Eddie’s usual slicked back, gelled hair was soaked, all product washed away from the salt water of the ocean; it falls over his eyes, while droplets of water trail down, down, down his face, along his cheekbones, down the side of his neck. Buck watches one droplet with rapt attention until it disappears into the wet cotton of his shirt.
Suddenly, Buck was transported back to that day eight years ago. But it was not “Whatta Man” playing this time, but instead—was that… “When Did You Get Hot” by Sabrina Carpenter?
I could look you up and down all day…
Oh, god. He silently curses May for introducing him to Sabrina Carpenter, making her a regular rotation on his Spotify playlist.
When did you get hot?
I think I would remember if you had that face...
And it’s undeniable, now, that he was attracted to Eddie in that moment all those years ago. That it wasn’t jealousy or hatred for him—he had simply found the new probie hot and didn’t know what to do with that.
Of course, he knows Eddie’s an attractive man, he’s not blind. But he’s remained wilfully ignorant to the extend of that attractiveness, till this point. Call it self preservation. Because this time it’s different. This time, it isn’t a random stranger; this isn’t a new probie at the 118, who Buck could try to intimidate or puff his chest out at.
This was Eddie. His best friend. Easily the most important person in Buck’s life.
Someone he loves with his entire being. And, oh.
Oh, of course.
This? This is love. This isn’t just attraction. This isn’t just lust or fleeting desire; Buck doesn’t just want Eddie, he wants Eddie. Wholly. Completely. In every possible way.
“Are you?”
“In love with Eddie?”
“It wouldn’t be so crazy.”
The racing of his heart right now isn’t just from seeing Eddie looking like his wet dream come to life, but it’s the fear he gets every single time he sees Eddie put himself at risk during the job. It’s years of knowing that danger is a part of the job, but still not being able to stop his hands from shaking or his voice from wavering, while his eyes dart around a scene, whenever Eddie isn’t by his side, looking for him, seeking him out through the chaos. Even when his head is telling him to focus on the job, his traitorous, silly heart refuses to listen, until he’s able to see Eddie again. Able to touch him. To know for certain that he’s okay; that he’s alive. Oh, thank you god, he’s alive.
“Buckley!” Chimney’s voice cuts through the fog of I love him, I love him, I’m in love with him, and Sabrina’s voice— Big riff coming, I need a minute. Wait, I need a minut— comes to a screeching halt, as Buck’s eyes jumped from Eddie to his captain.
The look on Chimney’s face made it clear that he had been trying to get Buck’s attention for a while; his eyebrows were both raised almost comically, and he had what Buck could only describe as a gleeful smile on his face. That, mixed with Ravi who was standing behind Chimney, trying and failing to hide his obvious laughter, made it clear that they had both noticed his distraction.
His blatant gawking at his wet best friend.
Fuck.
Buck felt his face flame, ears burning while they still rung from the song that he’d heard only moments before, and he coughed out a strangled “yeah, Cap?”
If possible, Chim’s grin grew further, a smile that Buck knew only meant ‘just wait till I tell your sister about this.’ He points down to Buck’s hands, before gesturing with a tilt of his head to the side, “mind handing Firefighter Diaz the towel you’re holding?”
Buck looked down, staring dumbly at the towel in his hands. He blinks. Oh, right.
He lets out a strangled laugh, “hah—right.” His grip on the towel tightens as he turns, heart constricting uncomfortably in his chest. He looks up to find Eddie, still soaking wet, already watching him, his head cocked slightly to the side, his expression curious.
Buck’s stomach swoops as their eyes meet, his heart beating double time against his ribcage, and he quickly diverts his eyes, focusing his attention on the towel he still held. He takes a few steps forward, handing the towel over wordlessly.
“Thanks, Buck.”
He sees Eddie’s hand reach over, his fingers grazing Buck’s for a long moment, until he takes the towel from Buck’s hands. The contact sends sparks up and down Buck’s spine and he quickly looks up, his mouth turning dry as his eyes lock on Eddie’s again.
Eddie’s eyes are still firmly on Buck while he quickly pats his chest down with the towel, before moving it up to run it quickly through his hair. His stare sends a small thrill up Buck’s spine and he quickly glances away again, his eyes hesitating for a too long moment on Eddie’s muscles as they ripple and flex beneath his damp shirt.
God damn.
I did a double take, triple take…
Buck tilts his head from side to side, hoping to shake the pesky lyrics right out of his brain. Ugh.
“You okay, bud?” Eddie’s voice snaps his attention back to him, and Buck’s breath hitches slightly at Eddie’s teasing smile.
“Me?” Buck squeaks. “I’m—I’m fine. I should be asking you that; you’re the one who just rescued a man from a literal whale.”
Eddie chuckles. “The man was already out of the whale, Buck. I just dove in to rescue him.”
“Yeah, maybe. But when I tell this story, I’m telling everyone that you single handedly fought the whale and won.” He pauses, before clarifying. “I won’t say you killed it, obviously. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re a whale killer.”
Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “Can’t have that.”
Buck nods, opening his mouth to speak, but suddenly the reality of what just happened crashes into him, knocking him back a step. Eddie just jumped into the ocean, jumped off a bridge, with no life vest, no harness attaching him to a rope they could pull him back with, if anything went wrong, and anything could have gone wrong. Nothing, absolutely nothing, ensured his safe return—safe return to Buck—except for Eddie’s swimming abilities.
His chest suddenly feels tight, his eyes blurring, as black spots cloud his vision. He feels the world tilts slightly, now very aware of the earth moving beneath his feet, as he struggles to take a breath.
He can’t breathe.
Why can’t he breathe?
Abruptly, he’s stumbling forward, tripping over his feet, unaware of his own movements until he’s standing directly in front of Eddie, the tops of their boots touching. His infuriating and bothersome heart was demanding attention, thumping persistently against his chest; demanding that Buck reach out and touch Eddie, to hold him, feel his skin, to confirm he’s okay. To feel his heart beating.
So, that’s what he does.
He’s reaching out, grasping onto Eddie’s arm like a lifeline, his other hand wrapping around Eddie’s wrist, to check his pulse; his blue eyes remain unblinking, as they dart over Eddie’s body, frantically, looking for any sign of injury. Any desire he’d felt moments before had been squashed down, the heat in his belly snuffed out, as cold, overwhelming fear takes over. He feels Eddie’s body go taunt under his touch, hears his breath hitch, but he ignores him, continuing to look him over.
“Eddie—Eddie, are—are you okay?” He manages to choke out, his voice panicked and afraid. “You aren’t hurt, are you? Is your hearing impaired, at all? Do your lungs feel okay? You didn’t inhale any water, did you?”
He goes to move, to get Eddie to the nearest paramedic, someone more qualified than him to make sure that Eddie is okay, “let’s get someone to check you over, come—" but Eddie’s feet remain firmly planted in place, halting him.
“Buck.” Eddie places his hands firmly on Buck’s chest, locking him in place. Buck’s words die in his throat as he feels the heat of Eddie’s palm against his chest. Eddie does that little head tilt of his, until Buck’s looking directly in his eyes. “Take a breath for me, okay? In and out.”
Buck doesn’t speak; knows he should feel silly and ridiculous by how he just reacted—he’s pretty sure he just had a panic attack, might still be having a panic attack—but he’s too overwhelmed by the unexpected presence of Eddie’s hand against his chest, to do anything. His skin is still damp, the moisture seeping into Buck’s shirt from Eddie’s skin. But Buck doesn’t try to pull away; he stands, motionless, lost in Eddie’s eyes, until the world slowly stops spinning before him. He’s finally able to breathe and takes a deep, albeit shaky, breath, holds, before exhaling. Then repeats, following the rhythm Eddie had set for him.
Inhale, I love him. Exhale, I love him. In again. Out again. I love him, I love him.
They stand there, just breathing deeply, until Buck feels his heart rate return to a normal speed, until he’s able to breathe properly again.
“You okay?” Eddie’s voice is impossibly gentle, and Buck ducks his head, suddenly nervous. He can only nod, words caught in his throat as his heart skips uselessly in his chest at Eddie’s kindness. He feels exposed, after acting so vulnerable in front of Eddie, but he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, not when Eddie’s still holding him, grounding him, steadying him, beautifully alive beneath his fingertips.
He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay, his heart beats in time to his words.
Eddie gives him a hesitant smile, his brows still furrowed, as he searches Buck’s face for any signs of distress.
“It’s okay, talk to me, Buck. What are you thinking?”
“I—uh,” Buck stammers, unsure of how to voice everything he was currently feeling. It was all too much. “What you did just now was—incredible, really.” He pauses, taking a moment to once again feel the beat of Eddie’s pulse on his wrist. He exhales, slowly. “But, for a moment when you were under the water, I was… Honestly, Eddie, I was terrified.”
“Buck—”
“And I know that I’m being ridiculous, you’re obviously okay, but—"
“You are not being ridiculous, Buck.” Eddie cuts him off, his voice firm, unwavering. Leaving Buck absolutely no room to argue. “I’m sorry that I scared you. I shouldn’t have jumped in so recklessly. I know I would’ve felt the same, if it was you.”
Buck nods mutely, his heart flipping at Eddie’s honest confession; all of the emotions he’s felt in the last few minutes, had finally caught up with him, leaving him feeling dizzy and disoriented. Eddie’s hold on him was probably the only thing keeping him upright.
“But, hey,” Eddie snaps his attention back to him, their eyes locking as he says, with complete certainty. “I know if something were to ever happen, you’ve got my back.”
The sentence sits heavy between them, years and years of unquestionable trust and faith in one another—despite everything they’ve been through, especially in the last year, with so, so much still unsaid between them—hits Buck all at once. Buck remembers, standing on the roof of that collapsing building, all those months ago, when the relief of hearing Eddie’s voice on the other end of the walkie, had hit him with such force, it almost knocked him over.
“Where are you?” His voice had trembled with the question, unable to hide his disbelief.
“Right in front of you.” Eddie had answered.
Of course. Of course, of course, of course.
They’re Buck and Eddie. They’ll always have each others backs. And no matter what happens going forward—whether they’re finally brave enough to take that next step, take that leap; acknowledging the precipice they’ve been teetering on for far, far too long—Buck knows that will never change.
“Always, Eds.” He breathes. Eddie nods, giving him one last lingering look—a look that has Buck holding back a shiver, a look that said that they weren’t done talking about this—before dropping his hands from Buck’s shirt, and walking away.
Buck’s body feels Eddie’s absence before the rest of his senses can catch up. He blinks, shaking himself out of the daze Eddie’s presence and touch and words and just—Eddie—had put him in, turning his head to see the man already standing next to Hen, over by the ambulance.
“Didn’t think it was possible, but you two have somehow gotten worse.” A voice from behind him causes him to jump, and he whirls around to find Ravi standing there, arms crossed, a knowing look in his eyes.
Buck feels his face heat again, but he doesn’t reply.
He turns his head, instead, his eyes finding Eddie immediately, and as if sensing his gaze, Eddie looks back over once more, giving him a small, private smile.
Ravi lets out an exasperated sigh. “You got it bad, dude.”
Yes, yes, he does.