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It starts as a game. Just a fun little thing they do during shifts to keep themselves entertained.
The idea comes from Chimney.
“We should write secret admirer letters,” he says one afternoon, grinning like he’s just solved world peace. “They don’t even have to be actual admirer letters. Write something funny. Tell someone you appreciate them. Confess your undying love. Whatever.”
Everyone thinks it’s a great idea. Something light, fun, softens the rough edges of bad shifts and sleepless nights.
So they do it.
They write letters between calls, in the kitchen, at the dining table, squeezed into quiet moments whenever they can.
And not gonna lie, Eddie is kind of interested in this one.
At first he’s about to write an admire letter like everyone does. But when he thinks about Chimney’s words, he changes his mind.
Confess your undying love, huh.
He thinks about it carefully but his answer comes out so fast that he doesn’t have a chance to stop himself.
He wants to send his letter to Buck.
Because—he’s in love with him.
He is in love with his best friend.
He has been for years.
His realization happens when he’s trapped in the well, staring death in the face.
People always talk about seeing their lives flash before their eyes.
Christopher is there. Shannon is there. Fragments of his past drift through his mind.
But so is Buck.
Buck, with his bright blue eyes and reckless smile. Who was laughing too loudly in the firehouse kitchen. Buck, who reaches over to steal fries off Eddie’s plate.
Buck.
His best friend.
At first, Eddie thinks it’s just grief over their friendship. Except that doesn’t happen with Hen, Chimney, or Bobby.
It’s just Buck. Only Buck.
His heart pounds against his ribs like an earthquake.
He can’t die here, not before he tells—
Tell what?
The thought stops him cold.
What exactly is it that he needs to tell Buck?
He frowns. Then another memory surfaces.
The museum.
Christopher races ahead while Buck enthusiastically explains dinosaur facts Eddie barely understands. Eddie doesn’t really follow half of what Buck is saying, but then Buck turns toward him halfway through his rambling explanation, smiling so brightly it feels like sunlight.
Something clicks.
Hard enough that he can’t ignore it.
Fuck.
Oh God.
He is in love with his best friend.
Eddie is in love with Evan Buckley.
He can feel the tears clinging in his burning eyes, before it pouring down through cheeks. The feeling for Buck comes flooding in and he can’t stop it. He doesn’t know when it was happening, maybe the first time they were talking, maybe the first time they were shaking hands.
God. He has to get out of here. No matter what it takes.
He can’t die here.
Not now.
Not before he gets another chance to see Buck smile.
Fuck—he wants to see Buck’s smile every single day for the rest of his life.
So he fights.
He dives into an underground aquifer, hoping it’ll lead somewhere—anywhere that will take him home. And fortunately, it does.
Later, people will say Christopher is the reason he survives. And they’re right. Christopher is his son. Christopher is his heart.
But another truth settles heavily in Eddie’s chest.
He survives because of Buck, too.
Because there are still words left unsaid.
Because he wants more time with him.
Because of his love for Evan Buckley.
And his stupid smile.
After that incident, Eddie can’t look straight to those blue eyes without heat on his cheeks. And every time Buck smiles, he automatically smiles too. Buck says his name and Eddie forgets how to breathe. Buck touches his shoulder and Eddie’s stomach flips.
Everything about him to Buck has completely changes—except one thing, they are still best friends. Because he knows Buck is straight.
And Eddie doesn’t even know what he is yet.
So, he talks to Hen.
Not immediately, though.
He’s been in the closet for years. Many years. Because he’s scared—of himself, of what it all means, of his family, of everything.
Especially Buck.
But it is what it is—he just wants to finally accept who he is.
Hen, who is so kind and always listening. She never laughs at him. Never judge him. Never makes him feel ridiculous for figuring himself out this late in life.
Instead, she offers understanding and advice.
The process of finding himself is not that easy.
Some days are messy. Some nights leave Eddie staring at the ceiling at three in the morning, turning the same thoughts over and over again.
But eventually, he understands.
First—
He is gay.
He always has been.
Eddie loves Shannon. He always will. But it isn’t romantic love. Not the kind that steals his breath and keeps him awake at night. Not the kind that makes his chest ache every time Buck grins at him from across the firehouse.
Second—
He’s completely in love with Evan Buckley.
Hopelessly, undeniably in love with him.
When Buck comes out as bisexual. That time he thinks this might be a chance but it’s not. Because Buck’s already with someone else.
He is sad and heartbreaking but life keeps happening around them. So he doesn’t have so much time to pinning his love to his best friend. Even after he knows that Buck and that guy break up, he doesn’t have time to think about it. His mind has stuck with his child.
Then, one night while he is in El Paso. Maddie calls him and tells about the lab incident. Bobby is almost dying. The entire 118 nearly being torn apart.
And Eddie’s first thought isn’t rational.
It’s Buck.
Is Buck okay? Is he hurt? Is he alive?
The fear is immediate and overwhelming. He cries so hard that Christopher ends up comforting him through the phone.
Then he gets on a plane, flies across the state.
Buck is waiting.
Buck is safe.
Relief nearly knocks Eddie off his feet.
Buck hugs him tightly—longer than usual—and whispers about how close he comes to losing everyone. Bobby. Hen. Chim. The entire team.
And how much he misses Eddie.
Eddie tucks his face into Buck’s shoulder—everything feels looser, more relaxed than before. He notices that this feeling isn’t just a fear of loss or relief.
It is something Eddie knows, but dares not be sure of just yet.
After he and Chris return to LA, Buck changes.
Not in a bad way. Just enough for Eddie to notice.
The way he looks at him—the lingering glances. Those blue eyes always spark a little when Eddie looks back.
And his voice—it softens when Buck speaks to him.
Hope blooms carefully in Eddie’s chest.
Maybe they have the same thought. Maybe they are on the same page.
Hen notices something is changing between him and Buck.
Christopher notices, too. His child knows everything.
Eddie tells him during El Paso. All about his identity and the love for Buck. His son listens quietly before wrapping his arms around him.
“I’m proud of you,” Christopher says. Then he pulls back and gives Eddie an unimpressed look.
“You’re hopeless, Dad. You should really make a move.”
Eddie laughs through tears. But Christopher is right.
Maybe loving Buck is terrifying.
Maybe confessing could ruin everything.
But Buck has been his best friend for eight years. Buck is the person Eddie trusts most in the world.
And if there’s even the smallest chance—if there’s even the slightest possibility that Buck might feel the same—
Eddie wants to take it.
He wants to choose joy.
So he sits down with a blank sheet of paper and ready to write Buck a letter—a love letter.
Of course it won’t be secret because they know each other's handwriting. And Eddie also doesn't want to hide himself too.
It’ll be a good chance to try… right?
Eddie doesn’t have a confession experience before. In his entire life.
But—fuck—he wants to do it.
He needs it.
At least he gives it a try. If Buck doesn’t feel the same, it won’t change anything between them. Right?
He isn't sure about that, but it’s Buck. His best friend for eight years.
Okay.
He will do it.
The letter ends up tucked into Buck’s locker, carefully placed on top of his bag so that stupid golden retriever won’t forget about it or accidentally miss it while grabbing his things.
Eddie’s heart pounds like a drum at a heavy metal concert.
Still, everything is going according to plan.
They have a rule: no opening the letters until the shift is over. That way, no one has to deal with awkwardness in the middle of an emergency if things get weird.
Not that Eddie is worried.
Okay. That’s a lie.
Because the letter isn’t just a letter.
It’s a love letter.
And apparently, Eddie Diaz has completely lost his mind, because other than confessing his feelings, he also asks Buck out on a date.
Yes—
A date.
He even sneaks away long enough to call an Italian restaurant and make a reservation while everyone else is busy in the kitchen.
Fuck.
What if Buck doesn’t feel the same?
No.
No, Eddie. Think positive.
“Okay, guys!” Chim calls out loudly. “I’m heading over to Athena’s after shift, so if anyone has letters for Bobby, you can leave them with me.”
Bobby still isn’t back at work yet. The doctors and scientists haven’t cleared him to leave quarantine, which means Chimney is acting captain for the time being.
Of course Eddie writes admiration letters for everyone, too. So he hands Bobby’s letter over to Chim, just like the rest of the 118 does.
Then the alarm rings.
They pile into the engine. Eddie takes his usual seat beside Buck, but this time his heart beats harder than it ever has before.
Because his love letter is lying on Buck’s bag.
“Eddie,” Ravi says suddenly. “Your face is really red.”
Every head turns toward him.
Including Buck’s.
Fuck—Ravi!
“It’s hot in here,” Eddie says immediately.
“Hot?” Hen echoes, raising an eyebrow, gives him a look Eddie knows all too well.
He shoots her a glare—a proper death glare. She smirks and turns back toward the window.
“Are you sick, Eds?” Buck asks.
Then, lifts a hand and presses the back of it against Eddie’s forehead, checking his temperature through skin-to-skin contact like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Eddie almost forgets how to breathe. His head spins like he just finish playing a fucking rollercoaster.
“Whoa, whoa!” Ravi blurts out. “Eddie, you’re turning into a tomato!”
Someone, please make Ravi shut up.
“Eds…” Buck’s voice softens immediately. “Are you okay? You know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”
Worry fills Buck’s eyes, his brows knitting together into a deep frown.
Eddie’s stomach flips.
“I’m fine, Buck.”
“You sure?”
“Sure.”
Buck narrows his eyes. “Super sure?”
Eddie bites the inside of his cheek.
“Super sure.”
Buck clearly doesn’t believe him. Of course he doesn’t. Not when it comes to Eddie.
For the rest of the call, Buck barely lets him do anything on his own without checking in first, hovering just enough to make sure Eddie is actually okay.
The concern in Buck’s eyes floods Eddie’s chest with something warm and unbearably tender: happiness, affection, and a sudden spark of hope.
Because Buck cares—but then again, he always has.
Maybe Eddie is reading too much into it.
Or maybe, just maybe, he’s not.
But when Buck looks at him like that—as if Eddie’s well-being matters just as much as his own—it’s hard not to wonder.
Hard not to hope.
Hard not to believe that maybe, just maybe, Buck feels it too.
He writes everything down in the letter, right down to the restaurant and the time.
The Italian restaurant isn’t far from their neighborhood. It only takes Eddie fifteen minutes to get there, and he still arrives early.
He almost loses his mind before leaving the house.
Christopher, however, takes one look at him, gives him a thoroughly unimpressed stare, and then pulls him into a tight hug before climbing into an Uber to spend the night at Denny’s.
Somehow, hugging his son helps.
Now he‘s calm. Or at least calmer.
Seven o’clock is their appointed time. Eddie gives the hostess his reservation name and follows a waitress to his table.
His heart never stops pounding.
Okay, if it stops, he’ll die, so maybe that’s not the best way to put it.
Still. This is exhausting.
It’s just Buck.
But it’s Buck, too.
Fuck. Eddie, calm down.
He picks up the menu and pretends to study it, mostly to keep his hands busy. He already knows what he’s going to order. He researched the restaurant beforehand and memorized half the menu like a complete idiot.
He just doesn’t know what else to do while he waits.
Buck will be here soon.
He will.
It’s seven-thirty.
And Buck isn’t here.
Eddie checks his phone. There’s only one message from Chris that sent him a support.
Chris (son)
Good luck, Dad. ❤️
He immediately texts back. And then stare at his screen.
No messages from Buck.
Maybe he’s running late.
Maybe traffic is bad.
It is LA, after all. Even their own neighborhood turns into a nightmare during rush hour.
He’ll be here soon, Eddie tells himself.
If…
If they’re on the same page.
8:45 PM
The glowing numbers on the digital clock make Eddie want to cry.
The waiter has stopped by his table twice now to ask if he’s ready to order. Both times, Eddie only asks for another glass of water.
‘I’m waiting for someone,’ he says with an apologetic smile.
Buck is coming.
Buck has to be coming.
Because Eddie is so sure.
He’s so sure Buck is in love with him, too.
Fuck.
“Excuse me, sir,” the same waiter says gently as he approaches the table again. “We’ll be closing soon.”
Guilt twists in Eddie’s stomach. He’s taken up this table for nearly two hours.
He asks for the bill instead. The waiter thanks him with a sympathetic smile.
Eddie leaves a thoughtful tip.
A few minutes later, he walks out of the restaurant and sits down on a concrete bench just outside.
The night air feels cooler than before.
Or maybe that’s just what heartbreak feels like.
His mind is blank. But his heart isn’t.
It’s heavy with disappointment—embarrassment. With the crushing realization that he gets it wrong.
He misreads it.
He misreads all of it.
He thinks they have something unspoken that both of them understand without ever having to say it out loud.
But he’s wrong.
He’s been reading Buck wrong all these years.
Buck doesn’t feel the same way. Because if he does, he would have been here two hours ago.
But no one comes.
Buck doesn’t come.
And maybe that’s the answer.
Eddie doesn't blame him, though.
It is what it is.
He can’t force Buck to love him back.
The next shift is going to be awkward as hell, sure, but Buck is Buck. They’ve been best friends for eight years. They’ve survived so much together. Eddie knows Buck isn’t cruel. He knows Buck won’t let this destroy everything they’ve built together.
Even if Eddie’s heart needs time to recover from it.
Even if being around Buck is going to hurt for a while.
Shit.
His vision blurs.
Eddie's eyes burn like they’re filled with lava instead of tears.
People walk past him without sparing him a second glance. Everyone has somewhere to be, someone waiting for them, their own problems to carry home tonight.
So, he just let his tears fall down.
He misreads everything.
He builds entire futures out of hopeful glances and lingering touches and soft smiles. He convinces himself Buck might love him, too.
You’re such a fucking idiot. Eddie.
He sniffs hard, trying to blink back the tears, but the picture of Buck flashes through his mind anyway.
Buck is standing in Eddie’s kitchen, making breakfast for him and Christopher.
Buck smiling at him—so bright like the sun itself.
Buck’s eyes sparkling whenever he laughs.
Buck’s raspy, sleep-softened voice calling him, ‘Eds,’ after waking up from an afternoon nap.
Fuck…
A sob escapes him.
Then the restaurant lights shut off completely, plunging the street into deeper shadows.
It only makes him cry harder.
He just—fuck—he just love Buck, and it hurt so much.
Maybe these eight years of friendship have been eight years of love, too. Quiet, patient and completely one-sided.
Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to go home—not to the home that’s filled with memories of Buck, of them.
Buck sitting at his kitchen counter, or lounging on the couch—laughing in the living room while Christopher grins beside him.
Their life is woven so tightly into Eddie’s that he doesn’t know how to separate one from the other.
Maybe one day he’ll be able to bear it.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he can’t.
He really can’t.
A light, cool breeze brushes against his skin. He lifts his phone to check—
9:20 PM
He’s been sitting here for a half an hour.
No wonder why his eyes hurt like hell. But his tears won’t stop. It just keeps falling.
The last time he cries like this is after the lab incident, when he almost loses his team.
Maybe this hurts more.
Not just because Buck doesn’t love him back. But because he was so confident and so sure about our feelings and assumed everything by himself.
He lets himself believe.
And he mistakes hope for certainty and builds expectations Buck never promises him.
He shouldn’t have done that.
But time doesn’t move backward.
Eddie sniffs again, wiping uselessly at his cheeks.
And then—
A pair of sneakers stops in front of him.
Black.
Familiar.
A pair he recognizes instantly because he’s the one who buys them in the first place, and because he’d drawn a stupid little smiley face on the side while Buck complains about him ruining perfectly good shoes.
Eddie’s breath catches.
No.
Slowly, his gaze lifts from the pavement.
The tears in his eyes make everything blur around the edges.
But he’d know those shoes anywhere.
They belong to Buck.
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Buck is exhausted.
Today’s shift is absolute chaos, and by the time it’s over, he feels like every last ounce of energy has been wrung out of him.
When he arrives home it’s already seven.
He has to stop by the hospital after shift for one final follow-up appointment related to the lab incident. Thankfully, everything looks good. No more tests. No more check-ups.
He’s officially cleared.
Buck drops his bag onto the floor by the door before heading straight for the shower.
Warm water cascades over his skin, and he lets out a content sigh. The familiar scent of coconut and tropical fruits from his shower gel wraps around him, comforting and familiar.
This is heaven.
After he’s done, it’s already eight o’clock, his stomach growls loudly like a wild animal.
“Okay, rude,” Buck mutters to himself.
Still, he’s alone in his house, so there’s no one around to judge him. With that thought, he heads into the kitchen to whip up something for dinner.
Carbonara sounds easy enough.
Buck pulls ingredients out of the fridge and starts prepping everything before setting a pan over the stove.
Ping!
His phone chimes from the counter.
Buck puts the butter down and glances at the screen. It’s 118 Group Chat. He opens it immediately.
Hen
Guys.
Don’t forget to open your admirer letters!
Oh—
Oh no.
He forgets it.
Like, completely.
Hen
Especially you, Buck.
Buck
why me
Chim
because I know you forgot
Buck
how do you know that??
Hen
YOU FORGOT???
Buck
i’m about to open it!!
Buck pouts at his phone before setting it aside.
Then he walks back to the bag lying abandoned on the floor. When he opens it, several envelopes spill out.
Letters from his coworkers.
But the one he wants to read first is Eddie’s. And he is so lucky, Eddie has written his name across the front.
Why does he want to read Eddie’s first?
The answer comes so easily that Buck almost laughs.
Because he’s in love with him.
Fuck.
Okay.
Yeah.
He’s in love with his best friend.
Eddie Diaz. Who is straight.
Hopeless.
Absolutely hopeless.
But sometimes…
Sometimes Buck thinks Eddie might be in love with him, too.
At first, Eddie has been avoiding Buck’s gaze altogether.
It’s hurt. Because he thinks maybe Eddie is pulling away. Maybe Buck imagines things that aren’t there.
But then he actually pays attention. He notices the tiny details.
The nervous fidgeting.
The way Eddie blushes whenever Buck gets too close. His cheeks somehow turn even redder whenever Buck points it out, forcing him to duck his head as if trying to hide.
The way Eddie suddenly becomes fascinated by literally anything else whenever Buck catches him staring.
And Buck realizes—
Eddie isn’t uncomfortable. Eddie is shy.
And that’s adorable.
Eddie is adorable.
So yeah.
Buck thinks there’s a decent chance Eddie might be in love with him, too. Or maybe it’s just a crush.
Honestly, Buck isn’t sure there’s much of a difference.
But the problem is—Eddie is straight—and that makes him confused and he is scared to make a move.
Because if he’s wrong? What if Eddie is just nice? What if Buck ruins everything?
He can’t lose this.
He can’t lose Eddie.
Eight years. They’ve known each other for eight years.
Buck helps raise Christopher.
Some secret part of his heart likes to pretend they look like a family. Like he and Eddie are co-parenting Chris together.
Back in their first year of knowing each other, that elf lady at the Christmas village tells Buck that Christopher is his son.
Their adorable son.
And Buck doesn’t correct her.
Because for one ridiculous, wonderful second, he wants it to be true.
He wants Eddie.
He wants Christopher.
He wants Sunday mornings in Eddie’s kitchen and movie nights on the couch and homework at the dining table.
He wants all of it.
He needs it.
Buck falls in love with Eddie Diaz on day one. And never really stops.
He smiles. Then opening his best friend's admirer letter.
Oh. It’s long.
Dear Buck,
I don’t really know what I’m doing right now.
It’s probably dumb, but I hope you’ll read this until the end.
First of all, thank you.
Thank you so much for being my partner for the past eight years. In the field and in life.
Thank you for sticking by my side through some of the hardest moments of my life, for being patient with me, and for never making me face them alone.
Thank you for being you.
More than anything, thank you for being here.
Thank you so much, Buck.
And second, I’m gay.
I know your face probably looks hilarious right now, and you might be confused. But I’m gay. One hundred percent gay. I’ve gone through the entire process of figuring myself out, and this is the answer I’ve found.
I hope you'll be happy for me.
And thirdly—
I love you, Buck.
Not in a platonic way.
I’m in love with you, Evan Buckley.
I’m not sure when it happened. Maybe since the first day we met. Maybe I’ve loved you from the very beginning.
Our first handshake made my heart flutter, even though I didn’t understand what that feeling meant back then. I didn’t know whether you were an option. Or whether I even had an option.
But now I know.
And you’re the only option I want.
The only one I need.
If you feel the same way, please come to Chris's favorite Italian restaurant at 7 PM tonight.
This is me asking you out on a date.
And if you don’t feel the same, please don’t come.
I hope this won’t change anything between us.
I love you Buck.
And thank you so much for reading this until the end.
With Love,
Eddie
Buck’s head spins by the time he reaches the final word.
I love you, Buck.
The sentence echoes inside his head in Eddie’s voice, warm, soft and tentative.
Fuck.
He is blushing so hard his face feels like it’s on fire.
Eddie is in love with him.
Eddie Diaz.
His Eddie.
And this isn’t an admire letter, it is a love letter.
Buck’s heart pounds violently against his ribs. He can feel every beat of it.
He reads the letter again, slower this time.
Then freezes—
If you feel the same way, please come to Chris's favorite Italian restaurant at 7 PM tonight.
Tonight.
Buck’s eyes snap toward the digital clock on the wall.
09:03
“…Oh my God.”
His stomach drops.
No.
No, no, no.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
He launches himself off the couch so quickly he nearly trips over the coffee table. He isn’t even sure he’s moved this fast on a call.
Then he grabs his keys and storms out of the house.
Fuck—how long has Eddie been waiting?
How long has he been sitting there alone?
How long has Buck made him think—
Shit.
Does Eddie think Buck rejected him—or that he simply doesn’t love him back?
Oh God.
The thought sends ice racing down Buck’s spine.
He peels out of the parking lot.
The engine roars beneath him as he slams his foot on the gas pedal, weaving through traffic with barely enough patience to avoid causing an accident. He doesn’t even want to think about how many traffic laws he’s probably breaking.
He can’t let Eddie wait any longer.
He can’t.
“Fuckkk!!”
Traffic grinds to a standstill. He knows this is LA but why today? It’s already nine and why the fuck that traffic is jam?
“Seriously?”
Buck grips the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles turn white. The clock on the dashboard keeps ticking.
It’s nine-fifteen and cars barely move an inch.
Eddie has already waited two hours.
Buck’s chest tightens painfully.
What if Eddie’s crying?
What if he goes home?
What if Buck is already too late?
“No. No, no, no.”
He isn’t losing this. He isn’t losing Eddie. Not because he was such a goddamn idiot for forgetting to open Eddie’s letter.
Okay. Fuck the traffic.
Decision made, Buck yanks the steering wheel toward the curb and slams the car into park.
The restaurant is four blocks away. He throws the door open and takes off running—like he does when lives are on the line.
Because Eddie Diaz is waiting for him.
And because Buck loves him.
After eight years of wanting, hoping, and pining, he’s finally being given the chance to choose Eddie back.
And there is no universe where he lets that chance slip through his fingers.
When Buck finally arrives, he sees him immediately,
Eddie is sitting on the bench with his head bowed.
Dark brown hair falls forward, hiding most of his face, but Buck would recognize him anywhere.
The restaurant behind him is dark now, its lights long since switched off. The street has emptied out—no one walks by anymore.
Fuck.
He’s so fucking late.
Then he hears it.
The quiet sound of someone sniffling. It cuts through him sharper than any siren.
Eddie is crying.
Buck’s steps slow instinctively as he approaches, guilt sinking its claws deeper into his chest with every breath.
He did this.
He made Eddie cry.
Eddie Diaz—who shoulders everyone else’s pain without complaint, who survives war and grief and loss—now sits alone on a bench, crying because of him.
“Eds.”
Buck’s voice comes out shaky and low, breaking the heavy silence.
“Can you look at me please?”
Eddie sniffs, then shakes his head.
Buck’s heart shatters into a million pieces, because Eddie never says no to him.
Not like this.
But Buck understands why.
So he lowers himself into a squat in front of him. Even in the dim glow of the streetlights, Buck can see how swollen Eddie’s eyes are. They’re bloodshot and red from crying.
A wave of guilt crashes over him, gnawing at his chest.
“Eddie…”
“You—you can’t be here.”
“Why?” Buck asks. Slowly, carefully, he reaches out and wraps his fingers around Eddie’s trembling hand.
“Because you don’t love me.”
The words come out weak—fragile.
They almost bring Buck to tears.
This is Eddie, the strongest person Buck knows. And right now, he sounds like a man whose entire world has just ended.
Buck already knows why Eddie thinks that.
But it’s not true. Fuck—
Not even a little.
“Eds—“
“Buck…” Eddie glances up just enough to frown. “Fuck, you can’t squat like that.”
Oh. Look at him.
Even after crying for hours because he thinks Buck rejected him, he’s still worried about Buck’s bad knees.
How is Buck supposed to be anything but hopelessly in love with this man?
“Because you won’t look at me,” Buck says quietly. “And I want to look at you.”
Eddie pouts—actually pouts. And Buck nearly loses his mind.
God, he’s fucking cute. Even now, Eddie is too adorable for his own good.
Then, Eddie finally lifts his head, and Buck’s breath catches in his throat.
His eyes are swollen. His nose is red, probably from rubbing at it too hard, and his cheeks are still damp with fresh tears.
How long has he been crying like this?
Buck’s vision blurs for a moment. He stands and moves to sit beside him instead, their hands still clasped together, refuses to let go.
“Why are you here?” Eddie asks in a soft and shaky voice. His tears keep streaming down his face and Buck wants to wipe them away so desperately.
“Because you asked me on a date.”
Eddie immediately shakes his head.
“Please don’t talk about it. I—I can’t do this right now.”
“Eds—Eddie—”
“It’s two hours ago, Buck.”
His voice is wrecked. Wet. Eddie doesn’t yell, doesn’t even raise his voice.
Instead, it’s just—heartbreaking.
That hurts even more.
“And… and I don’t know why you’re here now.”
Fuck.
Buck tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand.
“I didn’t open that letter.”
“…you what?”
Heat floods Buck’s face, heavy with shame and guilt.
“I forgot to open your letter. No—I mean, I forgot to open all of them. The whole pile from the team. I haven't looked at a single one.” He rushes through the explanation before Eddie can spiral any further.
“I had a follow-up appointment after shift because of the lab incident. I was exhausted, so I went home, took a shower, started making dinner, and I forgot everything.” His throat tightens. “I’m so sorry, Eds.”
He keeps talking, forcing himself to slow down enough for Eddie to follow.
Eddie’s tears stop. His brows furrow.
“You didn’t tell me you had another appointment.”
“I forgot about that, too,” Buck admits sheepishly. “I got the reminder while I was in the Jeep.”
Eddie stares at him, then his face turns bright red. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“I’m so stupid.”
“No—Eds. Please don’t say that. It’s me who forgot to tell you.” Buck’s thumb brushes gently across the back of Eddie’s shaking hand.
God.
Buck wants to pull him into his arms—wants to hold him close and never let go.
But something stops him.
For a second, he doesn’t understand why.
Eddie has already laid his heart bare. Buck knows they’re standing on the same side of this.
So why can't he just hug him—
Oh. Fuck.
Because Eddie has confessed.
And Buck hasn’t.
“I love you, Eddie.”
The sniffs, the sobbing—everything stops the moment Buck confesses. Even the night around them seems to hold its breath.
Buck’s heart throbs as another quiet tear slips down Eddie’s cheek. Slowly, Eddie turns fully toward him.
Disbelief fills those beautiful brown eyes.
“You—you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“Eddie.” Buck's voice is steady. “I’m in love with you.” His voice doesn’t waver. “I’m not joking.”
“But—”
Buck leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s reddened nose.
Eddie freezes. Completely. His cheeks somehow turn an even deeper shade of red, like the reddest tomato he has ever seen.
Buck can’t help smiling.
So he gradually tilts his head, brushing his lips against that tomato cheek, lingering just long enough to make Eddie’s breath hitch.
“Buck—”
“Do you believe me now?”
“Not in a platonic way… right?” Eddie asks weakly.
Buck laughs softly. Then he leans in once more, and presses the gentlest kiss against Eddie’s lips.
“Was that platonic?”
“No.”
Eddie shakes his head. Their noses brush together. Those brown eyes shine with something bright and fragile and hopeful.
And that makes Buck’s heart flutter.
Eddie whispers, “Are you really in love with me?”
“Yes, Eds.” Buck rests their foreheads together. “I’m really in love with you.”
“Me too.” Eddie lets out a shaky breath.
“I’m in love with you, Buck.” Another tear runs down. “I love you.”
Fuck.
Why is he so cute?
Buck gives him another soft kiss, “I love you too, Eddie.”
It is nothing more than the gentlest brush of lips, and yet it fills him with such overwhelming tenderness that he nearly cries.
Thank God. He almost loses the love of his life tonight.
He’s two hours late.
He makes Eddie cry.
For a while, he thinks he might ruin everything before it even has the chance to begin.
But Eddie still waits for him.
And Buck still comes.
After years of loving each other without knowing how to say it, they finally do.
They’re here. They’re together.
And this time, neither of them lets go.
── ⋆⋅ ☽︎ ⋅⋆ ──
They sit there for a while after that.
Their legs are pressed together, their hands never quite stop touching—fingers brushing and thumbs tracing mindless patterns across each other's skin.
Eddie melts against Buck’s shoulder, having absolutely no desire to move.
He likes this.
He likes being held by Buck.
No—he loves it.
“Hey, Eds.”
“Hm?”
Eddie starts to sit up, but Buck immediately wraps an arm around his waist and gently tugs him back into place.
Oh.
Heat rushes to Eddie’s face as Buck’s strong arm tightens around him. His heart pounds like a drum.
“Do you wanna be my—um—boyfriend?” The sheer mix of excitement and nerves in Buck’s voice makes Eddie burst out laughing.
God.
He’s adorable.
Evan Buckley—who throws himself into collapsing buildings without a second thought—is blushing over asking Eddie to be his boyfriend.
He really is just a giant golden retriever.
If he had a tail, Eddie is pretty sure it would wag hard enough to knock someone over.
“Eds?”
Eddie shifts, turning enough to look at him properly.
Buck’s cheeks are bright red. Like an apple—no—a tomato.
The sweetest tomato Eddie has ever seen.
So cute.
“Yes, Buck.”
Buck blinks. “…Y—Yes?”
Eddie bites back another laugh.
“Are—are we boyfriends now?”
That does it.
Eddie laughs outright this time before leaning over to press a kiss against Buck’s jaw, nipping gently at his skin.
Adorable.
“Yes,” Eddie says, smiling against his cheek. “We’re boyfriends.”
Buck’s entire face lights up.
“Even if our first date is an absolute disaster.”
“Eddie…”
Eddie smiles.
Then he turns back around and lets himself sink completely into his boyfriend’s side.
He nestles his face into the slope of Buck’s shoulder.
“Thank you for coming.”
Buck’s arm tightens around him. He feels Buck press a nose into his hair.
“Thank you for waiting.”
Eddie closes his eyes.
“Always—”
Grrrrrr…
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Eddie freezes. The sheer embarrassment hits him instantly.
Slowly, he buries his face deeper into Buck’s shoulder.
His stomach growls again, incredibly loudly. He hasn’t eaten anything all evening, and it’s way too late now.
And he is absolutely sure that this giant dog definitely heard it.
“…Eddie.” Buck sounds horrified. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat anything?”
“…Mm.” Eddie’s face burns. He makes a vague noise of agreement and debates whether it’s possible to simply dissolve into Buck’s hoodie and never come back out.
“Fuck,” Buck breathes immediately. “I’m so sorry.”
Eddie lifts his head just enough to catch the guilt written all over Buck’s face.
”It’s okay, Buck.”
“No, it’s not,” Buck counters softly, rubbing soothing circles on Eddie's back before gently nudging him upright. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
Eddie looks at him for a moment, then gives a small nod.
Then, quietly, he asks, “Can you make it for me?”
Buck doesn’t even hesitate.
“Of course, love,” Buck says softly. Eddie’s breath catches. “I’ll make anything you want.”
Love.
The endearment sends Eddie’s heart into another frenzy.
He stands, still a little unsteady from everything that’s happened tonight. Their fingers immediately find each other again.
Buck intertwines their hands without a second thought—as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Like they’ve been doing this forever.
Buck looks over at him, those blue eyes soft in the glow of the streetlights.
“Eddie.”
”Hm.”
”Thank you so much for writing that letter to me… and I’m so proud of you.”
A wild smile spreads across Eddie’s face. He leans up and kisses Buck gently on the lips, whispering against his mouth, “Thank you.”
”I love you, Eds.”
”I love you too, Buck.”
Buck squeezes his hand.
Eddie squeezes back.
Then together, hand in hand, they head toward Buck’s car, parked four blocks away.