Chapter Text
Buck smells the Alpha before he sees him.
Chimney’s words ring in his ears as Buck turns, time moving so slow he can taste the seconds on his tongue.
Jesus Christ and his Father, he’s beautiful.
Even through the wall panes, Buck catches a whiff of earthy syrup and fresh air. It’s a unique scent for an Alpha, not too overwhelming.
That just makes it even more mouthwatering.
Buck fights against the part of himself that wants to submit, to angle his neck invitingly and attract him closer.
Eddie, which is this new Alpha’s name, surprises him at every turn. He doesn’t growl or snip at him, posture or act like he’s better than Buck just because he’s masquerading as a Beta.
Their back and forth is dangerous, and worse, intoxicating.
“You can have my back any day.”
The words are out of Buck’s mouth faster than he can keep them. “And, uh, maybe you can have mine.”
Buck doesn’t mean to become friends with Eddie, to get to know him, to understand his actions and words and the unsaid anxieties he’s riddled with.
It’s a slow day when it happens.
There’s a woman on a bridge waving a gun around, and Buck’s scared.
He’s terrified, but he has a job to do. A job he loves.
So, he starts talking.
“You just want to be seen. I get that.”
“No you don’t.” The woman exclaims, seemingly more sad than angry. “You’re lucky enough to be a Beta. Us Omegas? We’re put in a box. Categorized. Stereotyped before we can even open our mouths. You could never understand.”
Buck looks around. Eddie’s the only one close enough to hear him, though Hen and Chimney and Bobby already know his true designation.
He makes a choice.
“You might want to think again.” Buck holds his hands up placatingly. “I might smell like one, might look like one, but there’s no changing my status. I presented Omega at 13.” Buck reaches up and tugs at his collar, showing off the scent gland he normally hides. It’s covered by a scent suppressing patch, but it gets the point across.
Buck hears an intake of breath behind him, but he soldiers on.
“I know more than most how it feels to be stuck. To be told who you are. To be ignored, and taken for granted, and left behind. But that doesn’t mean we’re broken, or bad, or not enough.”
The woman’s hand lowers, but Buck knows he’s not out of the woods yet.
“You don’t have to do this. You have more choices than you think. There are resources out there for you, for us. It’s up to you to take them, though.”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she lowers the gun completely. Buck takes it from her gently before passing it off to Eddie for him to disarm.
He doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes; he can’t. What if this changes everything between them?
It’s not until they’re back at the station that Eddie sidles up to him.
Buck takes a breath, preparing for the worst.
“You did good out there.” Eddie says, shocking Buck to his core.
“What?” He responds, even as his body instinctually responds to the praise like a plant to sunshine in the spring.
“You didn’t have to trust her with that. Or me. But you did, so thank you. You did good.” As he repeats the compliment, something swirls dangerously in Buck’s gut.
“You’re welcome.” Buck croaks out. “Am I-- are we--”
“We’re good.” Eddie fills in the blanks of Buck’s uncertainty and doubts, stretching them out like a wrinkled page. He might always have those tears and fissures, but something feels comforting about being pressed down and smoothed over.
When Eddie calls out for a few days a week later, canceling their plans to hang out and watch Top Chef with Chris, a part of Buck thinks, “I knew it. I called it. He’s going to leave like everyone else; he doesn’t want me.”
But he hasn’t been working with a therapist for nothing. Frank, the shrink, has been trying to get Buck to make some steps toward trusting others and their intentions, so he attempts to make one.
Buck buys the ingredients for chicken soup, cooking it at his apartment and scrutinizing the flavor until it’s as good as Bobby’s. Or at least close enough.
He drives the familiar route to Eddie and Chris’s house, only driving past it once before pulling himself up and parking.
Something nags at him as Buck steps up to the door, something important.
He has a key, but he doesn’t use it this time.
It’s not until he leans in to ring the doorbell that he smells it.
It’s just a whiff, but Buck knows what it means.
Eddie’s in his rut, Chris is probably gone, and Buck just showed up without telling a single soul where he is.
He feels like he’s serving himself up on a platter instead of some soup, still warm in the container in his hands.
But he already rang the doorbell, can already hear steps walking toward the door, and nothing in him can remotely get his legs working.
When Eddie opens the door, Buck can’t help it.
Eddie smells like sin, like sex.
Buck whines on the spot, half-closing his eyes and clenching his fists. The soup container groans but holds up.
Eddie, to his credit, goes still.
“You’re not real.” He grits out, looking pained. He’s flushed and sweaty and barely clothed in some sweatpants and a thin tank top.
“Uh.” Buck manages.
“Fuck. You are. You’re here. Why are you here?”
Buck winces at his heavy tone.
“I made soup?”
Eddie melts, his eyes going soft.
“You made soup.” Eddie’s hands twitch, like he wants to grab something, so Buck hands over the container.
Their fingers brush, and Eddie physically jolts toward Buck before reigning himself in.
Breathing heavily, Eddie stares into Buck’s soul.
“You need to go.”
Ever the one to push back, Buck rolls his eyes. “What, are you gonna make me?”
He instantly knows he’s made a mistake, made Eddie mad, or just was stupid.
But Eddie cracks a feral grin.
“That a challenge?”
Buck’s blood runs hot. He can still smell Eddie’s scent, even more delicious than usual, and it makes him a little dumb.
“What if it was?”
Eddie shakes his head, like he still thinks Buck isn’t real. Like Buck might disappear if he stops looking at him.
“You need to go.” Eddie repeats gently.
Buck can’t help but sway into Eddie’s space just enough to smell the sweat on his throat, to see the way his hair curls up at his brow, to taste his scent in the air.
“Okay.” Buck breathes, making no move to do so.
“Buck.” Now, Eddie sounds pained.
But Buck can only comprehend his name on Eddie’s lips. Lips that look plush and slightly red and perfect for biting.
“Eddie.” Buck responds, sounding pitiful to his own ears.
“Do I need to call someone? Does anyone know you came here?” Eddie is panting, a little desperate.
Buck just shakes his head, shifting closer and leaning on the doorframe.
They’re not even touching, but Buck can feel Eddie’s gaze on him like a brand.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Eddie doesn’t sound or smell mad, which Buck appreciates. He’s getting stupider by the minute, and he knows he’s edging toward a dangerous cliff.
One Buck might not mind falling off of.
Suddenly, Buck gets a terrible thought.
“Is there someone else here?”
“What?” Eddie pulls his gaze up from Buck’s neck toward his eyes.
“I’m sorry-- I shouldn’t have come, I should have known--” Buck turns on his heel, but moving away from Eddie feels like stretching a rubber band taut. It’ll either pull him back, or break him.
Eddie grabs his arm carefully, squeezing like he’s reassuring himself that Buck is here.
“Buck, stop. No, there’s no one here.”
Well, now Buck just feels like an idiot. A relieved idiot, but still an idiot.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Eddie is worrying those perfect lips between his teeth, and Buck wants to take over that job more than he wants to breathe.
Eddie must see where he’s staring, because his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips.
Buck feels both calm and frantic with energy.
A part of him is screaming at himself that Eddie’s not in his right mind, that Eddie doesn’t want him like that, not for real.
“I broke my cell phone.” Eddie says suddenly.
“What- why?” Buck can’t help but worry. What if something happens?
“I kept wanting to call you. Text you. Beg you to come over.”
Buck’s heart jumps into his throat.
“Why didn’t you?” His voice is gravelly to his own ears.
“I couldn’t-- I’m still not-- It’s not fair, not to you. I wanted to--” Eddie looks like he’s about to combust and like Buck’s holding the detonator.
Buck doesn’t realize he’s stepped closer until he can taste Eddie’s short breaths on his tongue.
Buck’s eyes roll back, and he’s baring his neck before he can think better of it.
Eddie growls, and Buck can feel his body responding.
He knows they’re at his door, and Eddie’s neighbors could walk out and see them at any point.
But he just doesn’t care.
Buck’s drunk on Eddie, and he wants more.
Unfortunately or fortunately, dealer’s choice, Buck’s phone rings.
He barely hears it, not with Eddie’s eyes caressing his skin without even touching it.
But Eddie shakes his head rapidly, eyes clearing just enough to say, “Answer it.”
Buck doesn’t even hesitate, or look at the ID.
“Hello.” His voice is hollow.
“Buck!” Athena’s voice washes over him like cold water. “Are you still coming over for dinner? Where are you?”
“At Eddie’s house.” Buck can’t look away from Eddie, whose shoulders are shaking with something barely contained.
Buck hears Athena breathe in sharply, then hears her move around, to a different room presumably.
“Why are you at Eddie’s house?” She asks evenly.
“Dropping off soup.” Buck can barely remember the reason for his visit.
“Are you inside?”
“No.” Buck swallows, dreading what she’s going to say next.
“Okay, good. Buck, you know what I’m going to say.”
“Don’t say it.” He begs.
“You need to leave, Buckaroo.”
Buck whines, and Eddie rests his furrowed brow on the door, looking two steps away from banging it there.
“I know you don’t want to, but you have to. Not just for your sake, but for his.”
“Don’t make me. Please, Athena. I want to stay.” More than he ever has.
“I’m not making you do anything. But I need you to listen. Try taking a step back.”
Buck doesn’t know how she knows they’re close enough for that to be important.
Still, he listens. He looks down at his boots, shuffling an inch or so back.
It’s Eddie’s turn to protest, though his whine is lower. It stirs something deep in Buck’s chest.
“Very good, Buckley.” Athena praises, but he prefers Eddie’s compliments. Eddie’s approval.
Buck looks up at Eddie, searching for something he can’t name.
“Did you drive there?”
Buck nods, then remembers to affirm in words. “Yeah.”
“Okay, I’m leaving now. I should only be a few minutes, but you need to wait in your car.”
His car seems so far away. A lot of small steps.
“Can you put me on speakerphone?”
Buck presses the button and looks back at Eddie.
He’s sweating more, looking desperate.
His eyes scream at Buck, who just wants to run into the Alpha’s arms.
“Hi, Eddie.” Athena greets cautiously. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” Eddie murmurs, looking mournfully at Buck, like he’s something just out of reach.
“You know I need to come get him.”
Eddie growls possessively, making Buck flush.
“I’m not taking him away from you.” Athena is quick to reassure. “But you know it’s dangerous for you two to be alone right now. You don’t want to hurt Buck, do you?”
This time, Eddie’s whine is indignant.
“I know you would never hurt him on purpose, but you know you’re not thinking clearly, and Buck’s still on suppressants. You can’t even smell him, and you’re acting like this.”
Eddie nods slowly, the wood of the door creaking as Eddie’s free hand clutches it.
Athena walks Buck through the steps toward his car, the inches disappearing under his feet.
Buck can’t stop himself from looking back at Eddie as he goes, missing the Alpha’s nearness immediately.
It’s a little easier once he’s in the car. Athena makes him lock it, which turns his stomach.
Eddie’s still at the door, holding the soup container like a lifeline.
He doesn’t go back inside until Athena pulls up, dragging Buck back into the present.
He’s in her car when the embarrassment starts to appear.
“I thought he was just sick.”
“It was sweet of you to bring soup.” She responds.
“It was stupid.” Buck rests his head in his hands, suddenly exhausted.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
Athena sighs. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“I thought we were friends. I thought we were close enough--” Buck cuts himself off.
“You are friends.” Athena reaffirms. “Buck… would you tell him if you were in his situation?”
Buck bites back the “Of course!” he wants to exclaim so he can really think about it.
“I don’t know.” He settles on.
She nods understandingly and pulls up to the house she shares with Bobby and her kids.
“Look, I’m not sure I’m up for a whole dinner right now.”
“Then you’re staying in the guest bedroom. You don’t have to eat, but I’m nervous about you being alone right now.”
Nervous about Buck going back to Eddie’s house, she means.
He understands.
Buck’s Omega side just wants to run all the way back to his Alpha and roll around in his scent.
Wait.
His Alpha?