Archive of Our Own

At first, Eddie was hesitant about coming to Nashville. He didn’t want to leave Christopher, and, honestly, the idea of a firefighter competition seemed a little silly to him. But after Buck’s very informative presentation over dinner and Christopher’s insistence that he would be fine staying with Denny at Hen and Karen’s for a few days (and after clearing that with Hen and Karen), Eddie had agreed to go.

Now that he’s here, he’s glad he decided to come. He and Buck had a great time exploring Nashville on their first night in, walking up and down Broadway. They got a chance to meet a lot of other firefighters during a mixer hosted by the competition, where he and Buck got to mix and mingle and let loose with some snacks and free drinks.

And then there are the games themselves.

Eddie’s actually having a lot of fun, both participating in the games and cheering Buck on from the sidelines, like he is now.

“C’mon, Buck!”

Eddie’s so engrossed in the scene before him, eyes never leaving Buck’s form so effortlessly putting out the fire engulfing the shed in front of him, that he doesn’t register someone approaching him until they speak up.

“Damn, your boyfriend’s good,” the man says, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. 

Eddie’s eyes dart to the tall figure next to him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, just long enough to take note of the Boston uniform he’s wearing, before quickly flicking his eyes back to watch as Buck continues to fan the flames in front of him.

“Oh, uh, yeah, he is—but he’s not my boyfriend,” Eddie clarifies, distracted, all energy focused on Buck. He’s leagues better than the competition in this event; flames almost out already.

“Oh! Sorry, man, I just thought…”

Eddie doesn’t catch what the man says next. Buck snuffs out the last of the flames and drops his hose, hands in the air to emphasize that he’s completed his task. Eddie raises his own arms in victory, letting out a gleeful cheer. Buck turns at the sound, absolutely beaming when Eddie catches his eye. Eddie claps his hands above his head a few times before pointing a proud finger at Buck. He channels all the things he wants to say but won’t shout across the courtyard into that gesture—you did it, I knew you could, I’m so proud of you. Buck points right back, a wide grin still stretched across his face, before turning to the judge who has just approached him.

It’s only then that Eddie remembers the man next to him, the Boston firefighter.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” he asks, tearing his eyes away from Buck and turning to look at the man standing next to him. He’s a few inches taller than him, and he looks slightly miffed—though that could just be because his partner just lost. Because Buck won, like Eddie knew he would.

“I, uh, was just apologizing. I shouldn’t have assumed…” The man trails off, clearly choosing his next words carefully. Eddie just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, confused.

“It’s just, I saw the two of you at the mixer last night, and with the way you were acting, it seemed like…well, nevermind.”

Eddie tilts his head to the side as he plays back the previous evening in his mind. How were they acting? Normal, as far as Eddie can remember. They mingled, ate some food, had some drinks—nothing out of the ordinary, really. Before he can say anything, though, the Boston firefighter speaks again.

“I’m Tom, by the way.” He holds out his hand expectantly.

Something about that name makes Eddie’s stomach curl unpleasantly. That’s ridiculous, though—it’s just a name; there’s no reason to feel any certain way about it. So he shoves that aside and shakes the man’s hand.

“Eddie,” he introduces himself, before turning and pointing across the way, “and that’s Buck.”

The other man—Tom, apparently—nods to himself.

“Buck,” he murmurs. Something about the way he says his name unsettles Eddie, and he’s not sure why. “So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean he’s single?”

Eddie’s stomach churns at the question. 

“Um, well—”

Tom cuts him off.

“Do you think he’d say yes if I asked him out?”

Eddie doesn't know why he does it. He just knows that the idea of this man, Tom, wanting to ask Buck out makes him feel like he's going to throw up, so before he can even think about it, he blurts out—

“Oh, sorry, man, I just meant that he’s my husband, not my boyfriend.”

Tom’s face twists into an expression that Eddie can’t quite decipher—some sort of combination of surprise and embarrassment and…something else.

“Oh, uh—no worries, that’s my bad, I’m sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. “Uh, congrats, man. You did good.”

Despite the fact that his mind is racing, despite the fact that he’s just lied to this man that he doesn’t know and told him that he and Buck are married…Eddie sort of melts a little inside. This guy thinks Buck’s a catch—and he’s right. Unfortunately, there’s no way Eddie would ever actually be able to marry Buck. As much as he’d love it, it’s not like Buck would ever actually want to marry h—

Woah.

Eddie halts that train of thought immediately. Snaps himself out of it. Turns to Tom with a forced smile that he hopes doesn’t look as pained as it feels.

“All good, thanks, man.”

Tom gives him a clap on his shoulder before turning and heading off to meet up with his Boston counterpart.

Eddie lets out a long, slow breath. He has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

Eddie means to tell Buck that he accidentally told someone they’re married, he really does. 

It’s just that…things are pretty hectic for the rest of the day. Between all the events they’re doing, they don’t really have much time to talk, whether they’re competing individually or together. 

Admittedly, Eddie could have pulled Buck aside during their afternoon break and explained the situation…but that would require him to have actually come up with a reason for what he’d said.

So, Eddie’s watching Buck speed his way through extinguishing trash cans, and his mind is churning.

He could tell Buck that he knows long-distance relationships are hard, that they never work, and that he thought he was saving him from the awkwardness of letting the guy down and still having to be around him for the rest of the weekend. Maybe he could exaggerate, say that Tom was kind of a jerk, so he made sure he knew Buck wasn’t available, like a good wingman…or something.

So, now they have to pretend to be married, just for the rest of the weekend.

Eddie thinks Buck will go along with it; he’s a good sport like that. He just has to tell him before someone else does.

Because Eddie’s already seen first-hand how news spreads around here. One of the firefighters from Atlanta that he hadn’t even met yet had apparently gone out after the mixer the night before and cheated on his wife. He doesn’t know where that rumor started or if it’s even true, but it seems to be the only thing anyone can talk about today.

Except, well…

For the past couple of hours, Eddie has kept feeling eyes on him. He’s been eyeing the competition all day, too, but this seems to be more than that. He especially feels it when he’s with Buck. He even swears he noticed the firefighters from Kenosha quickly divert their attention when Buck leaned in close, congratulating him on getting the fastest time during the sprinting competition earlier.

He could just be imagining things, of course.

Or, Tom has started telling people that the two firefighters from Los Angeles are married and the news is spreading.

Either way, Eddie needs to tell Buck.

Unfortunately, though, they’re never alone. 

People are drawn to Buck, of course they are, so, naturally, he’s made friends with one of the firefighters from Seattle, Jim, and another one from New York, Alex.

He walks over to Eddie with the two of them when their last event for the day is over, and makes a round of introductions.

“This is my partner, Eddie,” Buck says, gesturing in Eddie’s general direction. “Eddie, this is Jim,” he points to the shorter man, one that Eddie had definitely competed against earlier, “and this is Alex.” Buck points to a taller, lanky man with tan skin and piercing green eyes that Eddie vaguely recognizes from the mixer the night before.

They all shake hands and exchange pleasantries, Alex and Jim congratulating Buck and Eddie for being at the top of the leaderboard at the end of Day 1.

When Buck looks at Eddie, eyes wide and so, so blue, and asks, “Do you mind if they join us for dinner?” well, Eddie couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

So they have dinner together, drinks flowing freely, conversation sprinkled with laughter, Buck sitting next to Eddie with their legs pressed close.

He can just tell Buck about the whole people think we’re married thing when they turn in for the night.

When they finally head back to their room, Eddie’s…well, he’s feeling it. He’s not drunk by any means, just a little tipsy. Just enough to feel loose and a little floaty. Just enough to let his guard down, just a bit.

He claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder, waits until Buck looks at him, really looks at him.

“You did great today, Buck.” Eddie means it. He’s so proud of Buck, always is, really, but especially today—he’d come in either first or second in every single event. Eddie sort of knew he would, though; Buck’s great at everything. He’s Buck.

Buck beams at the compliment, and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners, the little dimples that form in his cheeks, are so adorable they make Eddie’s heart flutter.

“Thanks, you too, man.”

Eddie gives his shoulder one more squeeze before gathering his clothes and heading into the bathroom to wash off the day. The shower clears his head a little, sharpens his senses. He remembers that he has to tell Buck that he sort of accidentally told someone they’re married.

Eddie takes his time, letting the hot water soothe his already sore muscles. He’s glad they don’t have to be at the event center too early in the morning; that means he can sleep in and enjoy the soft mattress and plush pillows a little bit longer. Maybe he should buy himself fluffier pillows.

He eventually forces himself out of the soothing, warm stream of water and finishes getting ready for bed.

While Buck takes his shower, steam steadily leaking out from underneath the bathroom door, Eddie paces. He takes a long sip of water, sets it down on the nightstand between the two beds, and walks, back and forth, across the length of the room.

Everything will be fine. There’s no reason to be so nervous; it’s silly. He’ll tell Buck what happened, explain himself, and it’ll be fine. Buck will probably think it’s funny, laugh it off or something, maybe roll his eyes at Eddie and tell him he could’ve warded off the guy’s advances on his own, but it’s not like he’ll be mad about it, right?

It’s not that serious, it’s just for this weekend, and it’s not like they’ll see any of these people again after this weekend anyway.

It’ll be fine. There’s no reason for Eddie to be so anxious about it.

After what feels like an eternity, the bathroom door clicks open. Eddie turns, sees Buck emerge in nothing but his grey sweatpants with steam billowing behind him like a dream, and his mouth goes dry.

It’s not that Eddie’s never seen Buck shirtless—of course he has, about a million times. There’s just…something. Something about Buck, standing there with his wide chest and large arms, curls still slightly damp, that has Eddie subconsciously bringing a finger up to the corner of his mouth to make sure he’s not drooling.

“Hey,” Buck says, awkwardly shifting on his feet. Eddie snaps his eyes up to Buck’s face, willing the heat in his cheeks to cool down so his blush isn’t obvious. “Do you think you could—” Buck holds out his hand, loosely grasping a bottle of Icy Hot. “There’s just—there are some spots I can’t quite reach. Would you mind…?” Buck trails off, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Eddie feels a pit in his stomach, and it’s hard to swallow. It’s fine, he can be a good friend and say yes. It’s what Buck would do for him if the roles were reversed. Besides, it’s not like it’s something new that he’s never done before. He’s helped put sunscreen on Buck’s back before, he’s helped massage his leg when it’s feeling particularly achy. There’s no reason for such a simple request to make him feel like he’s going to choke on his spit.

And yet, for some reason, in this moment, the thought of getting his hands on Buck’s wide, muscular back has Eddie buzzing.

“Y—yeah, of course, I’ll do it,” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, almost as if they’re being said by someone else.

Some of the tension leaves Buck’s shoulders, and his face eases into a gentle smile.

“Great, thanks!”

In two strides, he’s in front of Eddie, turning around so his back is facing Eddie’s front.

“Here,” he says, holding the Icy Hot over his shoulder. Eddie takes it wordlessly, eyes roaming over the vast expanse of muscle before him. He squeezes a dollop of the cream into his hand, places the bottle on the dresser next to them, and gathers some onto his fingertips, hand hovering tentatively over Buck’s back. It’s fine. He’s basically done this before; there’s no reason for his heart to be racing and his throat to be tight.

Eddie gently touches the top of Buck’s shoulderblade with his fingers.

“Here?” he asks, relieved that his voice doesn’t crack or tremble.

“Yeah, I got here,” Buck reaches up and pats just over his shoulders, “and here,” he runs his hands along his lower back, “but I couldn’t really get, well—” he gestures to the rest of his back, and—it’s a lot.

Not that Buck is particularly inflexible, it’s just…he’s so big.

Eddie’s known this, of course. He’s seen Buck bulk up, especially over the past couple of years. But he’s never really…well, looked. Or let himself look.

Now, though, as Buck stands before him, shirtless, he can’t help himself. He looks. His eyes take in the broad expanse of skin, pulled tight over tense muscles. He notes the way Buck’s wing-like lats expand and contract every time he breathes. Eddie could reach his hands down if he wanted to, let them fall to his waist, feel those muscles for himself. He wonders how Buck would react if he did just that, gave his waist a gentle squeeze.

But that’s ridiculous.

He tries his best to shut that part of his brain down, to go on autopilot. He’s just rubbing cream onto a back. A large, muscular back that happens to belong to his very hot best friend, but still. Just a back.

Eddie finds himself getting lost in it, though, rubbing small, deliberate circles along Buck’s back until the cream disappears before gathering more cream and working on a different spot. He tracks the way Buck’s muscles shift underneath his touch, maybe presses in a little harder than necessary more than once. He adamantly tries to ignore the soft sighs Buck releases with every touch, all the while knowing his traitorous brain is committing each sound to memory.

He’s careful, deliberate, almost reverent as he makes sure to rub the soothing cream over each of Buck’s tight muscles. Neither one of them says anything; the only sounds are a mixture of the rush of cars on the streets far below and those sinful sounds coming from Buck.

Even when he’s done, Eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. He just stands there, hand still, fingertips resting in the middle of Buck’s back. Buck doesn’t move either.

Eddie allows himself to look one more time, one last sweep of his eyes over the absolute sculpture of a man before him. He swallows, hoping that will clear his mind, that it’ll take his thoughts and feelings down as well.

It doesn’t.

“Is that, uh, good?” Eddie asks quietly, breaking the silence.

Buck coughs, and Eddie’s eyes track the slight movement of his muscles when he does.

“Yeah, that—that’s good.”

“You sure? Anywhere else?” He wants to smack himself in the face for asking that. It’s a stupid question, brought on by nothing more than his unhinged desire to touch Buck again.

“Nah, thanks though.” Buck rolls his shoulders back, and Eddie has to bite his lip so he doesn’t let out a sound that he can’t take back.

Buck grabs the bottle of Icy Hot from the dresser and turns around so he’s facing Eddie, eyes bright and cheeks tinted pink.

“You need some of this?” he asks, holding up the bottle between them.

A brief image of Buck, shirtless, rubbing Icy Hot over Eddie’s back flashes across his brain, and he quickly banishes it.

“Nope!” Eddie can hear the strain in his voice, but he really hopes Buck doesn’t pick up on it. “I’m good, thanks.”

Buck nods but doesn’t move, eyes carefully, slowly examining Eddie’s face. He doesn’t know what to make of that.

Eddie clears his throat.

“I’m just gonna—” He holds up his greasy hands and nods toward the bathroom before crossing the room and stepping in front of the sink.

He washes his hands slowly, thoroughly, and eventually looks at himself in the mirror. He’s not sure why he was expecting to look absolutely wrecked—maybe because that’s how he feels. Instead, he’s just looking at wide brown eyes and slightly rosy cheeks. He blinks, takes a deep breath, and splashes water on his face. He needs to calm down. It’s just Buck, his best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Eddie takes another deep breath before making his way back into the main room. Buck has already tucked himself into bed, wrapped himself in a cocoon of sheets and the comforter, as he types something out on his phone.

Eddie’s relieved to note he’s put on a shirt.

He climbs into his own bed, sends off a goodnight text to Christopher, and makes sure his alarm is set before plugging his phone in and placing it on the nightstand between the two beds. He reaches over to the lamp just as Buck is setting his own phone down. Eddie raises his eyebrows, and with a silent nod from Buck, switches the lamp off.

The room is dark, silent, as Eddie lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling. His mind is racing. He needs to go to sleep. Instead, he says—

“You really were great today, Buck.”

There’s a beat of silence as his words hang in the air, but Eddie knows Buck hasn’t fallen asleep yet.

“You were, too,” Buck replies, voice soft. “I think we make a pretty great team,” he adds, as if they hadn’t known that for eight years.

Eddie hums in agreement. He can’t think of anyone else he’d rather be here with.

“I think we can actually win this thing,” he admits quietly into the dark.

Eddie can perfectly picture the smile that he’s sure breaks across Buck’s face, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, the way his piercing blue eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I know we can.”

Silence falls between them. Eddie’s not sure how long, minutes, hours, he lies there, listening as Buck’s breathing slows.

Eventually, he whispers, “Goodnight, Buck.”

He doesn’t expect a reply, but he gets one—a muffled, slurred, half-asleep, “‘Night ‘dee,” from the man in the bed next to him.

God, Eddie really loves him.

Eddie likes Nashville. The weather is definitely cooler here than it is in LA at this time of year, but it’s still nice. He doesn’t need more than a simple jacket to be comfortable walking around outside in the morning, which is what he’s currently doing. Because he couldn’t sleep.

Despite the fact that they could sleep in today, his body had woken itself up at 6 AM, and he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, his body too full of anxious energy. He’d considered going to the hotel gym to burn off some steam, but between not wanting to shower again and the day filled with activities ahead of him, he’d decided against it. Instead, he’d written a note for Buck on the flimsy hotel notepad telling him he’d see him at breakfast and quietly left the hotel room to stroll around downtown Nashville.

With the morning, and the cool breeze once he stepped outside, came clarity. Clarity about a few things, actually. So Eddie’s hoping the longer he walks, the better he can sort out the new realizations and pieces of information swirling around in his head.

First, with the whole Icy Hot incident, Eddie had completely forgotten to tell Buck about the fact that some—if not all, by this point—of the firefighters here think they’re married. He recites the reasoning in his head. It would have to be long-distance, which would suck. The guy gave me bad vibes; I wanted to save you the trouble.

Even in his head, the excuses sound weak. But he can’t exactly say the thought of you going out with another guy makes my skin crawl.

Which brings him to the second thing.

He definitely has feelings for Buck. Not just friendship feelings. More like…I want to kiss you on the lips and run my hands all over your chest and bite your neck feelings. I want to run my fingers through your hair and kiss you on the forehead and hold you for the rest of forever feelings.

He’s been pushing it down for months now—when they went out to the club together, at the firefighter auction, hell, even when they’re doing chores at the station—that unbridled affection, bubbling just underneath the surface.

He’d already come to accept the fact that he’s gay. It had been a journey, but it’s now just a fact that he accepts about himself, like the fact that he has brown eyes or that he’s a firefighter. The additional realization and acceptance that he has feelings, definitely-not-platonic feelings, for his best friend, though, is too much.

Eddie thinks back to the night before, to the way that tiny voice in the back of his head let slip an unfiltered thought just before he drifted off to sleep.

I love him.

The notion both terrifies him and fills his chest with warmth at the same time. Of course he loves Buck—Buck is the easiest person to love in the world. It’s really more surprising that he hadn’t come to that realization sooner.

But—

The third thing. He can’t let Buck know. Things are finally good between them again. They’d been a little off for a bit when Eddie first came back from Texas, between Eddie and Hen partnering up and Buck moving out. But they’ve found their rhythm again, and they’re stronger than ever. Eddie can’t mess that up.

So the feelings have to stay bottled up, guarded behind steel bars in the back of his heart. Even if it kills him.

Which, based on how last night went…it just might.

A horn blares, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts. He looks up, realizing he no longer recognizes any of the buildings around him; he seems to have wandered off past where he and Buck had already explored on their first night here.

He glances at his watch and sees that it’s after 7, which means he’s somehow already been walking for over an hour. With a sigh, he pivots on the spot. He needs to head back now so he’s not late for breakfast.

Hopefully, he can catch Buck before breakfast and explain the whole fake married thing before someone else does.

Eddie doesn’t catch Buck before breakfast. 

In fact, he finds him just outside the ballroom where their breakfast is being provided, talking to Alex and Jim from the day before.

“Hey!” Buck greets him with bright eyes and a wide smile.

The mirroring smile that graces Eddie’s face is automatic, like there’s no other option than to smile right back at Buck.

“Hey.” He slots himself easily right next to Buck, facing the other two men and giving them a nod in greeting.

“Everything okay?” Buck asks, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. Warmth floods down Eddie’s arm from the simple contact.

“Yeah, just couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk,” he replies with a small shrug.

Buck tilts his head to the side and studies Eddie’s face for a moment.

“You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve gone with you.”

Eddie shrugs again. “I didn’t want to wake you up so early. Besides,” he claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder and gives him a teasing smirk, “I thought you could use a little extra beauty sleep, old man.”

Buck’s jaw drops as Alex and Jim laugh quietly to themselves.

“Breakfast?” Eddie asks innocently, not waiting for a response before turning and heading into the ballroom.

He chuckles to himself as he hears Buck indignantly call out, “I’m, like, a year older than you!” after him.

Eddie thinks luck just might be on his side.

The final day of the firefighter competition is almost over, and he still hasn’t had a chance to get Buck alone. And yet, he hasn’t been feeling the eyes on him that he did yesterday, and he hasn’t had to divert any comments that may allude to him and Buck being married. Maybe, just maybe, he can get out of this weekend without having to tell Buck about his slip-up.

After Buck’s stellar performance in his final solo event, they’re first in the standings, with Nashville and Boston close behind.

With a brief pep talk from Buck, Eddie’s ready for his final event. When the signal goes off, he hoists his dummy over his shoulder and starts weaving in and out, around, and over the obstacles laid before him. He doesn’t let himself even glance back at his competitors for a second, focusing instead on moving forward as fast as he can. His lungs are burning as he starts to climb the stairs, so close to finishing first and ringing that bell, when someone bumps his shoulder, and his legs are suddenly swept out from under him.

He tumbles down the stairs, hitting his chin and knee along the way before finally landing on his shoulder with a thud. He glances up to see the other firefighter from Boston—Brady, he thinks—send a glare his way before racing to the top of the stairs.

“Eddie!”

Eddie glances over and sees Buck rushing toward him, face red and brows furrowed. He waves him off, not wanting to make a scene.

“I’m fine,” he calls out before standing up and hoisting the dummy over his shoulder once again. With a grimace, Eddie makes his way back up the stairs he’d just climbed, determined to finish and keep them in the running. He reaches the top, rings the bell, and slumps against the railing, breathing heavily and trying to ignore the throbbing pain coursing through his body. After a beat, he notices Brady is still on the platform, drinking in his first-place win.

“What the hell, man?” Eddie bites out.

Brady looks over at him, his face the picture of pure innocence.

“What?” he asks.

“You know what,” Eddie retorts through gritted teeth.

A smug smile spreads across Brady’s face.

“It really is unfortunate that you tripped. I’d watch your step next time if I were you.”

Eddie feels a flare of anger rise up in his chest, spreading heat through his entire body. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, glaring at the other man. He then releases it slowly out of his mouth, turns around, and makes his way down the stairs on the other side of the platform. He’s not worth it.

Buck meets him at the bottom of the stairs and takes the dummy out of his hands, tossing it in the vague direction of where the rest of them are discarded.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, voice laced with venom and nostrils flaring. “I could kill that guy.”

“Buck, it’s fine,” Eddie says tiredly as Buck guides him off to the side of the arena.

“No, it’s not fine—he tripped you!” Buck throws an arm up in the air. “How did no one else see that?” He looks around the arena, presumably for an official. Eddie takes the opportunity to sit down on the bleachers, letting out a quiet groan as he does.

Buck’s head snaps around at the sound, and he fixes Eddie with wide, concerned eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

Eddie shifts on the bench and grimaces involuntarily. “I’m fine.”

Buck crouches in front of him and looks Eddie in the eye with a soft frown. “No, you’re not.”

He lifts a hand to Eddie’s chin and brushes his fingers against it gently. Eddie does his best not to flinch.

“You’re not bleeding, but it is pretty red. You might end up with a nasty bruise.”

“I think I’ll live,” Eddie chuckles.

Buck doesn’t laugh or even crack a smile.

“What else?”

Eddie looks at Buck, and Buck looks right back, expectantly. With a sigh, Eddie sticks out his leg.

“My knee. Banged it pretty hard on the way down.”

Buck gently rolls up Eddie’s pant leg and examines his knee quietly, carefully pressing above and around the kneecap. With a small nod to himself, he rolls the pant leg back down and looks up at Eddie.

“Doesn’t seem like it’ll be anything more than a bruise,” he concludes.

“I know,” Eddie says with a fond smile, “but thanks for checking anyway.”

Buck sits back on his heels, his eyes roaming up and down Eddie’s body like he can assess him for injuries through his clothes with just his eyes.

“Okay. What else?”

“Nothing,” Eddie answers, shrugging one shoulder.

Buck narrows his eyes, scanning Eddie’s face, but Eddie tries to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Buck lifts a hand to Eddie’s other shoulder, the one he didn’t shrug, and gently presses two fingers into the muscle there. Eddie hisses involuntarily at the sensation.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” Buck murmurs with a glare, though there’s no heat behind it. “Eddie, you can’t hide stuff from me, you know I’ll figure it out.”

Eddie sighs as Buck starts examining his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.”

The truth is, he does know. He knows that Buck can usually read him like a book, both what’s going on in his body and in his mind. If Buck hadn’t been so heated earlier, he probably could have figured out where Eddie was hurt just by the way he walked. Sometimes Buck even knows what Eddie needs before he’s realized it himself.

That’s what scares him. It scares him that he can be found out at any moment. With one fond look too many, one wrong comment, one touch that lingers too long—Buck will know. Eddie’s sure of it. He has to keep himself in check, keep his walls up as best he can. Buck can’t know how he really feels.

“Alright, your shoulder seems to be okay too,” Buck says, sitting back on his heels once more.

“I know,” Eddie replies with a gentle eyeroll and soft smile. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“No,” Buck insists, expression darkening. “He hurt you.”

Something in Eddie’s gut stirs at how worried Buck is over him, how protective he’s being. He reaches out a hand and places it on Buck’s shoulder reassuringly.

“And we’ll pay him back by beating his ass in the relay,” Eddie assures Buck.

“You really think you’re okay to do that?” Buck asks, brows furrowed in worry.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie grins, bearing his canines. “We’re gonna win this thing. Although—” He pauses, looking down sheepishly. “Can we switch so you’re in the second position? I think right now you’ll run faster than me.”

“Of course, whatever you need.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s uninjured knee.

“Cool. Then I just need some ibuprofen and maybe a little ice, and I’ll be good to go!”

“Ice and ibuprofen, coming right up!” Buck gives Eddie’s knee a light pat before standing up and jogging over to the first aid station. 

Eddie watches him go, wondering how on Earth he was blessed with such an incredible best friend, hoping with all his heart that he doesn’t fuck it all up.

Things had been going so well.

Eddie was able to make it through his leg of the relay with minimal pain. He finished his half just behind Nashville, but he wasn’t worried about that—he knew Buck would be able to make up the difference, no problem. 

But then a fight breaks out.

Eddie’s off to the side, taking a drink of water and cheering Buck on as he crosses the finish line when, in the blink of an eye, Buck’s rounding on one of the men from Nashville—Eddie thinks his name is Ryan. He can’t hear what they’re saying from where he is, but Buck is clearly angry, and he’s going back and forth with Ryan and his captain.

Eddie jogs over as a crowd begins to form around them, and he catches Ryan saying something like, “Roll the tapes.”

“You don’t need to roll the tapes, I won!” Buck insists, eyes wild and curls flopping over his forehead.

“Nah, I think we should take a look,” the other Nashville firefighter, Blue, chimes in from behind Ryan.

“Of course you do,” Eddie mutters under his breath.

“You were behind me the entire time; there’s no way you could’ve beat me,” Ryan says, though to Eddie it sounds more like a whine.

“No, I wasn’t!” Buck fires back, taking a step closer to Ryan. “I won, fair and square. It’s not my fault you’re such a sore loser.”

Ryan’s nostrils flare, the only warning sign before he steps forward and shoves Buck backward with both hands. Buck stumbles, stunned, before flexing his hands and glaring daggers at Ryan.

Eddie knows Buck, knows his next move even before Buck himself knows. He sees the way Buck’s jaw clenches, the way he shifts his weight, and before Buck can retaliate, Eddie’s right by his side, sliding an arm around his waist and holding him back.

“Hey hey hey,” he murmurs in Buck’s ear, “it’s not worth it.” He feels Buck melt against him, some of the fight leaving his body as he lets out a sigh. Eddie thinks that things have de-escalated, that they’ve made it through the worst of it.

But then a firefighter shouts from the crowd, “Yeah, you should teach your husband to control himself!”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. There’s no way to brush this off—the words rang loud and clear through the arena. Just when he thought he might be able to escape this weekend unscathed, someone just had to call Buck Eddie’s husband.

He looks at Buck with wide, panicked eyes, heart jackrabbiting in his chest. Buck slowly turns to him, meeting his gaze.

“You told people we’re married?” he asks. His tone and his expression are both a mixture of confusion and something else unreadable. Eddie swallows.

“Uh, yeah?” he says weakly.

They’ve always been able to communicate without speaking, somehow being able to know exactly what the other needs through the smallest twitch of the lips and quirk of an eyebrow. At this moment, Eddie desperately hopes Buck gets what he means when he widens his eyes slightly, turns his eyebrows inward just a tick. Just go with it for now, please. I can explain later.

The confusion melts away from Buck’s face, and is replaced with a relaxed smile.

“I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone here, keep it strictly professional,” he plays along, voice light. Eddie lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Sorry,” he looks down with a bashful smile, “I just couldn’t help myself. It slipped out.” Eddie looks back up and Buck and gives his waist a soft squeeze where he’s still holding him. He doesn’t want to let himself hope, but the look Buck’s giving him…it makes Eddie’s heart skip a beat.

With a cough, he turns back to the Nashville crew.

“You can roll the tapes if you want; all it’ll do is show you that we won.”

In the end, Buck and Eddie do end up winning for the LAFD, with Nashville coming in second and Boston coming in third. Eddie’s skin buzzes as Buck pulls him in for a hug, celebrating their victory with a wide smile and bright eyes.

Eddie tries his best to enjoy their final evening here, but in the back of his mind, he’s worried about the conversation they have to have when they’re alone in their hotel room. Buck, though, is acting surprisingly normal.

While mingling with others during the closing ceremony—normal.

During dinner, as he steals bites from Eddie’s plate and chats happily with the others at their table—normal.

When they go out to a bar on Broadway with Alex and Jim and their respective partners from their stations—normal.

Buck’s easy smile is the same as it always is. They laugh, nudge shoulders, sit with their legs pressed together just like they always do. When Buck hands Eddie his beer and their fingers brush, the touch lingers, but again that’s…normal. They’re just Buck and Eddie. It’s like nothing’s different between them, and Eddie starts to let himself relax as he knocks back a few beers and laughs along with the new friends they’ve made.

It’s not until the elevator opens up on their floor and they’re walking toward their hotel room that the anxiety crashes back into Eddie full-force. Buck opens the door for him, and Eddie enters without a word, mind racing. This could go so many possible ways, and he’s really hoping it can be waved away with his weak excuse and they can just forget about the whole thing, go back to normal.

Buck toes off his shoes, grabs his grey sweats and hoodie, and heads into the bathroom. Moments later, Eddie hears the shower turn on.

Huh.

Maybe Buck’s somehow forgotten about the whole thing. Maybe, to him, it’s not that big of a deal, and he’s decided they don’t actually need to talk about it. Maybe he thinks it’s just something they can forget about.

Too soon, Buck emerges from the bathroom, damp curls flattened against his forehead, beads of water dripping down his neck.

“All yours,” he says to Eddie with soft eyes and a half-smile, gesturing toward the bathroom.

By the time he’s showered and brushed his teeth, Eddie’s convinced himself that Buck has either forgotten about the whole “fake married” thing or he’s decided to let it go. Either way, he’s much more at ease than he had been all night. 

When he exits the bathroom, he sees Buck sitting on the edge of his bed up by the nightstand, scrolling on his phone. Eddie doesn’t know what he’s looking at, but the sight of Buck, so soft with his half-dried curls and cozy hoodie, makes his heart warm. He grabs his own phone and sits on the edge of his bed so he’s facing Buck, their knees mere inches apart. He sends off a text to Chris and is about to check his other messages when he notices Buck put his phone down on the nightstand out of the corner of his eye. When he sighs, Eddie looks up.

Buck clears his throat.

“So, uh, are we gonna talk about it?” he asks.

Fuck.

So much for forgetting about it.

Eddie sets his phone down and sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not really knowing how to start.

Buck shrugs. “It’s fine, it doesn’t really bother me.” His tone is so nonchalant, almost unnatural, that it unnerves Eddie, but he can’t quite place his finger on why. “I’m just confused…why did you tell that guy we’re married?”

Eddie runs a hand down his face and sighs again, steeling himself to recite the words he’s been telling himself for the past day and a half.

“Yesterday, during one of the events, Tom—that firefighter from Boston? He came up to me and started asking about you. Like, he was watching you and trying to get information about you from me. I mean, it makes sense, you were a total badass putting that fire out.” Eddie can feel himself rambling and tries to redirect himself. “Anyway, he thought you were my boyfriend—and I corrected him, don’t worry! But then he asked if I thought you’d say yes if he asked you out, and I just…I sort of panicked and blurted out that you were my husband.”

Buck tilts his head to the side and scrunches his nose a bit. Despite the nervous energy coursing through his veins, Eddie can’t help but notice how cute he is in that moment.

“Well, okay, but…why?” he asks. “Is there some reason you didn’t want him to ask me out?”

Eddie considers the question, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers the specific way Buck phrased it, almost as if he’s fishing for something. But Eddie tries not to read into it too much and sticks to his prepared answer.

“I…I don’t know! I mean, I definitely thought it would be a bit odd, I mean, he’s in Boston, and you’re in LA, and long-distance relationships suck. But also…the way he was leering at you made me kind of uncomfortable. He gave me the creeps, and you deserve so much better than that. So I didn’t want him to ask you out. I was doing you a solid, you know, a–as your b–best friend…” he trails off weakly.

There’s a twinkle in Buck’s eyes now that’s a bit different from what Eddie’s seen before. It’s a mix of amusement and something else, something he can’t describe.

“So…you didn’t want him to ask me out, I get that,” Buck says slowly, raising one eyebrow. “But instead of lying and saying I’m straight and therefore wouldn’t be interested…you lied and said we’re married.” 

It’s like Eddie’s brain reboots. Why did he not think about just telling the guy Buck’s straight? Why wasn’t that his first thought instead of claiming Buck for himself? A tiny voice in the back of his head tells him that he knows why. He was being possessive, even if he has no right to be, even if Buck isn’t technically his to claim, as much as he’d like that to be the case.

“I…I don’t…maybe if…” He tries to formulate an excuse, but his mind is drawing a blank.

“Eddie,” Buck cuts him off gently. His eyes are wide, searching, and Eddie feels like he can see straight into his soul.

“I kind of liked it,” he mutters mostly to himself, the words sort of tumbling out.

Those piercing blue eyes don’t leave his; in fact, they seem to grow more intense as Buck encourages him, nudges him along.

“Liked what?”

The thought forms and falls from his lips before he can stop it.

“People thinking you were mine.”

“Oh.”

Eddie swears he sees Buck’s eyes darken for just a second, but then they’re back to normal. He doesn’t say anything else. For a moment, nobody speaks. It’s as if Eddie’s confession is hanging in the air, and one wrong word could bring it crashing down.

Suddenly, Buck stands up.

“Um, it’s late, I should—”

Eddie stands up too, panic coursing through his veins. He can’t believe he’s fucked this up; this is the last thing he wanted to happen.

“Buck, wait, I’m sorry—”

Buck doesn’t look at him, just sidesteps past him and walks to his suitcase.

“No, it’s just—we need to head out early, and I—I need to make sure I have everything packed and—” Buck keeps rambling, muttering to himself about socks as he walks around the hotel room in a frenetic state, back and forth between the closet and his suitcase, not really doing much of anything.

“Seriously,” Eddie pleads, following Buck around the room and trying to figure out a way to fix this, “I can find the guys before we leave and clear everything up, tell them it’s not true, whatever you want. I can give that Tom guy your number to make up for it, please. I’m sorry I said something so weird and made you uncomfortable. How can I make this right?”

Buck pauses, halfway between the closet and the bathroom. He still doesn’t look up at Eddie.

“I…I’m not interested in Tom.”

“Okay…” Eddie says slowly.

“And you don’t…I’m not uncomfortable or weirded out, okay?” Buck insists.

Eddie’s not sure what to do with this information. It’s good, though, that Buck’s not interested in Tom and isn’t weirded out by Eddie and his loose lips. He’s just not sure what to make of Buck’s frantic energy if it didn’t have anything to do with that.

“I mean…” Eddie huffs out a breath, not in annoyance or frustration, but out of confusion. “You don’t exactly seem happy with me.”

Buck’s face twists, and Eddie has to resist the urge to reach out a hand and soothe the wrinkles on his forehead 

“You said you liked it,” he says, voice almost sounding pained.

Eddie looks to the floor, shame and regret pooling in his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t have said it, no matter how much he meant it; it just slipped out.

Quieter, Buck continues, “You said you liked people thinking I was yours, that we were together.”

Eddie looks up, meeting Buck’s eyes and hoping he can see how sincere he is.

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“God, will you stop apologizing?” Buck cuts him off.

Eddie snaps his mouth shut. Waits for Buck to say something.

“I’m not…mad about that. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I–I just…what do you mean by it?”

Eddie hears the pleading in Buck’s voice and sees the searching in his eyes, but he doesn’t know how to answer that.

Or, he knows how to answer it truthfully, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to say something, explain how he truly feels about Buck, just to ruin things between them. Buck’s an incredible, beautiful soul, and Eddie knows he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him on purpose. But he also wouldn’t fault him for keeping his distance if he finds out his best friend has accidentally fallen in love with him.

He bites his lip as he debates how to respond, watches Buck’s eyes drop to his lips at the movement, the way he seemingly involuntarily licks his lips, notices that his pupils are slightly more dilated when he meets his gaze again.

Oh.

Oh.

Eddie knows Buck. He knows him. And though he can’t remember this particular expression being directed his way before…he decides to take a risk.

“I meant…” Eddie starts slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Buck so he can gauge his reaction. “It felt good. To have people think we were together like that, just for a little while, even if it was just pretend.”

Eddie watches Buck lick his lips again, darts his eyes down for a moment while he watches his throat move as he swallows.

“What if it wasn’t?” Buck says softly, voice even as he keeps his eyes fixed on Eddie’s.

“What if…what?”

Buck’s voice comes out a little more urgently as he clarifies, more insistently, like he needs Eddie to get it. “What if it wasn’t pretend?”

Eddie doesn’t think this is real. There’s no way Buck could mean what he thinks he means by that. He’s not good in situations like this, not good at expressing things with words. They’re getting too close to feelings territory, and Eddie feels exposed. He tries to deflect with humor.

“Are you telling me we’re somehow already secretly married?” He chuckles weakly.

It only kind of works.

Buck rolls his eyes fondly, taps the side of Eddie’s foot with his own.

“I’m pretty sure you’d know if we were already married.”

“Yeah, I definitely would,” Eddie replies softly, reverently.

Something has shifted between them. The air is charged, and no one is daring to make any sudden moves or loud noises, almost as if they don’t want to disturb this moment in time, preserving it for the rest of eternity.

Eventually, Buck speaks, quietly, breaking the silence.

“What if we didn’t pretend to be together, Eddie?”

Eddie’s breath stutters. 

“I…is that what you want?” he asks, barely letting himself believe it.

Buck reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Eddie subconsciously takes a step forward so they’re toe-to-toe.

“I want you to tell me what would make you happy. Tell me. Anything, and I’ll do it.”

Buck’s voice is so sincere, so genuine that it makes Eddie’s heart melt. It makes him feel brave, like he can knock down that final barrier.

“I don’t want to just be friends,” he whispers.

Buck’s eyes widen in wonder, deep blue oceans that Eddie wants to swim in until the end of time.

“Okay,” he says simply.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Buck smiles, a radiant thing that has Eddie smiling right back. “I feel the same way. Anything else?”

He says it all so simply, it makes Eddie’s mind short-circuit. Just like that, he’s admitted that he also wants to be more than friends. That he’ll do anything to make Eddie happy. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world, as casual as saying he wants toast for breakfast.

But still, he can’t say what else he wants. Right now, they’re in this ambiguous territory—saying they want to be more than friends, not really defining much of anything beyond that. But if Eddie says what he wants right now, if he voices the desire that’s coursing through his veins—there will be no turning back. A line will be crossed that can’t be uncrossed.

Buck’s hand is warm in his, his large thumb mindlessly sweeping back and forth, sending sparks up Eddie’s arm. They’re close enough that Eddie feels Buck’s warm breath ghost across his cheeks, and it’s driving him insane.

Eddie’s eyes flicker down to Buck’s lips as if they’re drawn there by magnets. He forces them back up to his eyes, instantly realizing he’s been caught. Buck’s eyes have a mischievous glint to them, like he knows something he shouldn’t and isn’t afraid to use it to his advantage. Eddie gives him his own look, and based on the shift in Buck’s expression, it’s clear he understood Eddie’s wordless comment. It’s comforting, really, to see such a familiar look on Buck’s face. Something has shifted between them, but it’s good to know he’s still Buck, that they’re still Buck and Eddie. That they’re still so in sync that they can have their silent conversations.

I saw where your eyes went, Eddie.

Don’t even, Buckley.

Or else what?

I can’t…

Yes, you can.

If you know what I want, then just do it.

Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand and leans slightly closer, so their noses are almost touching.

“You have to say it, Eddie,” he whispers, voice low and gravely. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll say yes. But you have to say it. Let yourself ask for what you want.”

Eddie’s heart is beating so hard he can hear it in his ears, and his eyes keep flickering back and forth over Buck’s face, from his eyes to his nose to his lips to his eyes to his lips to his birthmark to his lips and—

Fuck it.

“I want you to kiss me,” he breathes.

Even though they’re so close that Buck’s features are starting to go slightly blurry, Eddie can still see the smirk that graces Buck’s face.

“Oh, really?” he asks with a teasing lilt. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Shut up,” Eddie mutters before grabbing a fistful of Buck’s hoodie and pulling him in.

The moment their lips meet, Eddie melts. Buck’s lips are soft, and sweet, and gentle. Kissing Buck feels right, like it’s something they’ve been doing for years, like it’s something they should keep doing forever.

Buck releases his grip on Eddie’s hand and slides both of his hands up so he’s cupping Eddie’s face, deepening the kiss. Eddie grips Buck’s waist and pulls him in closer, gently nibbling on his bottom lip and smirking at the gasp that elicits.

Buck pulls back slightly, catching his breath.

“I thought you wanted me to kiss you,” he chuckles lowly.

Eddie gives his waist a squeeze and fiddles with the string on Buck’s hoodie.

“Well, you weren’t doing anything,” he pouts, jutting out his lower lip.

Buck swoops in and sucks Eddie’s lip in between his own, rewarded with a moan that allows him to slip his tongue into Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie drops Buck’s hoodie string and slides his hand up and around the back of his neck, tangling his fingers into his curls and pulling him impossibly closer. Their tongues explore each other's mouths slowly, purposely, as if they’re trying to memorize each other.

This, this is how it should always feel, Eddie thinks. No other kiss has ever felt like this, like coming home and being dipped in warm honey and having fireworks lit underneath his skin all at once in the best way. 

Buck slides one hand down from Eddie’s cheek and wraps it around his waist, arm strong and firm against his back. Eddie lets out a soft moan as their bodies are pressed flush together. He never wants to stop, never wants this moment to end. 

But then Buck pulls away again and Eddie lets out an involuntary, strangled sound. Buck chuckles before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then another, soft and feather-light to the bruise forming on Eddie’s chin. Eddie shudders at the tender touch, and Buck uses the hand still cupping Eddie’s face to tilt his head to the side, trailing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw.

Eddie uses his hand still tangled in Buck’s hair to hold him in place as he mouths at his pulse point, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make Eddie’s toes curl. 

Hot breath ghosts over Eddie’s neck as Buck gently scrapes his teeth along his jugular before trailing kisses back up until his lips are at Eddie’s ear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek before pulling back, just enough so they can look each other in the eye.

“Really?” Eddie asks in disbelief. 

Buck nods.

“Me too,” he admits.

“Then why haven’t we been doing this all along?” Buck huffs out a laugh, swiping his thumb across Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie leans forward and presses their foreheads together. “Because we’re idiots?” he guesses.

Buck chuckles. “Yeah, probably.”

Eddie brushes their noses together before leaning in for another kiss, this one tender and slow, like he’s pouring all of his love for Buck into this one, singular kiss.

Once again, Buck pulls away before things can get anymore heated.

“C’mon, we should sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Eddie whines, burying his face in Buck’s neck and pressing a kiss to the soft, warm skin there. He feels Buck’s laugh rumble in his chest as he brings a hand to the back of his head and cards it through his hair.

“Hey, man, you’re not the one who has to drive for like a million hours tomorrow.”

“And whose fault is that?” Eddie mumbles into Buck’s neck, voice muffled, nipping playfully at his skin before soothing it over with a kiss.

Buck rubs soothing circles into Eddie’s scalp and sighs.

“You agreed to it!”

“I did,” is Eddie’s simple, muffled response.

“You know I don’t like flying.”

Eddie wraps his arms around Buck and gives him a gentle squeeze.

“I know,” he says quietly.

He lifts his head and looks at Buck. He really is gorgeous, with his bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks, curls wild and stubble dusting his face. Eddie’s eyes fall on his birthmark, somehow the same dark pink as Buck’s kiss-bitten lips. He gives in to the urge to press a gentle kiss to it once, and then again.

He pulls back and Buck is staring at him with what can only be described as adoration. It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

“You’re right,” Eddie concedes, bringing a hand up and brushing his thumb over Buck’s swollen bottom lip, “we should sleep.”

Buck catches Eddie’s wrist and presses a soft kiss to his palm, leaving Eddie breathless. He nods before walking over toward the beds. Eddie catches his breath for a moment, willing his heart to not beat out of his chest, before following him.

He picks up his phone from the nightstand as Buck climbs into bed, double-checking that his alarm is set before plugging it in.

Then he hesitates.

Eddie looks at his bed before glancing over at Buck’s, and it’s clear, without even having to voice anything, that the decision has been made for him. Buck is lying on one side of his bed with the covers turned down on the other, looking at Eddie expectantly. 

His face breaks into a grin, and he climbs into bed next to Buck, pulls the covers up, and reaches over to turn off the light. Before he can roll over, a strong arm wraps around his waist and pulls him in close until his back is flush against Buck’s chest. Buck nuzzles into Eddie’s neck and hooks his leg over Eddie’s, clinging to him as if there’s no place he’d rather be. Eddie reaches down and gently massages Buck’s leg for a moment, knowing it must be tight after the grueling competition this weekend. Buck sighs, relaxing into Eddie even more.

It feels good, right, being wrapped in Buck’s arms.

Eddie’s never felt so safe, so at home, so comfortable in his own skin as he does in this moment, with Buck.

“I love you.”

The words slip out so easily, like he hasn’t been trying to push them down. But they don’t scare him, not anymore. He thinks, hopes, that he and Buck are on the same page.

Buck hums and presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

“I love you, too.”

They drift off to sleep together, connected as one, feeling like they’ve won more than just the games.