Chapter Text
“Fuck.”
If you told Buck yesterday that he would be dating Eddie Diaz in an hour, he would probably start crying. Being with Eddie would be no laughing matter.
Eddie willingly wanting to hold him, to kiss him, to love him would bring tears to his eyes so fast that he would probably feel the sting for years.
And yet here he is.
In Eddie’s house.
Their house.
On Eddie’s couch.
Their couch.
Eddie straddling his lap and smiling into their kiss. Scratching the back of Buck's neck and pulling at the curls there. When Buck pulls back, even a millimeter, Eddie yanks him closer. The air between them burns.
Buck wanted to hold him, shove him, keep him. And fuck, he could tell Eddie wanted the same. A millimeter apart was unbearable. The world could wait, but not this. Not them.
The kiss is sweet. Slow.
Salty from tears. Whose Buck couldn’t tell you, but he has never been so happy.
They can't stop crying and their hands are still shaking on each other's faces but neither of those things stops them from kissing.
He can’t stop kissing Eddie. He can’t stop thinking about it, either: Eddie loves him. Eddie Diaz loves him. And Buck, Buck gets to love him back.
When Buck eventually pulls away, he brushes his thumb against Eddie's wet bottom lip.
Buck’s chest fills with warmth at the sight of a breathless Eddie, the dazed look of awe in his eyes, lips swollen and shiny: Eddie Diaz loves him!
Reconnecting their lips, Buck slides his hand from Eddie's face, down his throat, his chest, over his rib cage, his waist, finally gripping Eddie’s hips. Bringing him closer.
Eddie shivers, his heart thundering as Buck’s hands wander.
Buck squeezes Eddie’s hips, grinding him down. Eddie gasps, sending sparks down Buck’s spine. He needs Eddie closer. Can’t help hoping that his grip leaves a mark on Eddie’s skin.
Eddie should always have a part of Buck with him.
Unfortunately, breathing is a necessity, no matter how much Buck only wants to breathe in the air that was in Eddie’s lungs. They pull away, resting their foreheads together. Eyes still closed.
Just quiet and panting.
Then a musical sound.
Eddie giggles.
The sound punches through Buck’s chest, sharp and sweet all at once. He wants to keep it, trap it, chain it to his ribs where no one else could ever touch it. His brain latches onto the image of a heart-shaped locket, cheap and tacky, but he doesn’t care, because if he could, he’d lock Eddie’s laugh inside and wear it like armour. Press it to his ear whenever the world went dark, just to remember this exact sound. This proof that Eddie Diaz laughed for him.
Buck can’t stop smiling.
Eddie, already impossibly close, pulls himself closer using the arms he has wrapped around the back of Buck’s neck. Eddie’s arm pits on Buck’s shoulders. His knees pushing into the back of the couch.
Chest to chest.
Nose to nose.
Eyelashes interlacing.
Eddie speaks against Buck’s face.
“You—”
Buck cuts Eddie off with a peck on Eddie’s lips. Buck can’t help himself.
Eddie giggles again.
Buck does it again.
“Buck.” Eddie exasperates. Tapping Buck’s lower back — from how Eddie’s arms are falling over Buck’s shoulders — in reprimand.
“Sorry sorry.” Buck whispers. He is not sorry.
Even with his eyes closed Eddie can still see the smile in Buck’s words. Just as Buck can hear Eddie’s mental eye roll.
Eddie gives Buck a quick peck before he continues speaking. “You love me.”
“I do. So much.” Buck’s grin grows. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Eddie quickly follows.
“I love you.” Buck follows just as fast.
Eddie giggles, pulling away just enough to meet Buck’s gaze. His arms slide from Buck’s back, over his shoulders, until his hands frame Buck’s face, thumb brushing over the birthmark above his eye.
Buck watches as Eddie’s eyes soften—just for him. And oh fuck, Buck loves Eddie’s eyes.
He’s always loved Eddie’s eyes.
The curve of his long, dark lashes. The way amber sparks in the mid-morning sun and melts to chocolate on the couch at night. The tiny mole tucked under his lower lash line.
Before Eddie, brown was just a colour. Nothing special. But after meeting Eddie. After meeting his eyes, and declaring — vowing — to always have his back right before an ambulance exploded, brown became so much more. It became steady. Fierce. Chaotic and safe all at once.
It became home.
“I love you.” They say simultaneously.
They both laugh, the sound wet and messy from their tears, but light enough to make Buck feel like he’s floating. They can’t seem to stop grinning, faces still pressed together like magnets.
The laughter ebbs, and a softer kind of silence settles in. Eddie’s hands stay on Buck’s face, thumbs brushing over skin like he can’t stop touching, can’t quite believe Buck is real. But something shifts—his gaze flickers, a little nervous, like words are gathering in the back of his throat.
Buck notices the way Eddie’s fingers start fidgeting, smoothing over his curls, then back down to his jaw. “What is it?” Buck whispers, half-afraid to break whatever spell they’re wrapped in.
Eddie bites his lip, hesitates. Then he laughs, a small, almost sheepish sound. “Can I tell you something kind of selfish?”
Buck nods immediately, heart thudding, because anything Eddie says is already his favourite thing in the world.
“I don’t want to tell anyone. Not yet. Only Chris.” His voice is careful, testing, as if the words might shatter between them. He presses a quick kiss to Buck’s mouth before continuing, almost shy. “Not because I’m scared. Just because… I like this being ours. Just ours. Like the whole world doesn’t get to touch it yet.”
The relief that blooms in Buck’s chest is so strong it makes his eyes sting again. He gets it. Fuck, he gets it.
He squeezes Eddie’s hips, grounding them both. “Yeah,” Buck whispers. “Let’s keep it just for us a little longer.”
And the smile that breaks across Eddie’s face feels like another kiss—bright, unshakable, theirs.
Eddie’s smile lingers, softer now, like he’s letting the words sink all the way in. He glances at his watch and groans. “Shit. We’ve got an early shift.”
Buck hums in protest, nose still brushing Eddie’s jaw. “So? Sleep’s overrated.”
Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. He pulls away just enough to stretch, then threads their fingers together again. “Tell that to Bobby when you’re yawning through roll call.”
“Worth it.” Buck grins, tugging him in for one last kiss, quick and sweet.
They finally peel themselves off the couch, flicking off the lamp as they move toward the hallway. The house settles into quiet, just the hum of the city outside and the soft shuffle of their footsteps. For once, Buck doesn’t mind the silence. Not when Eddie’s hand is still in his.