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The first time Eddie realizes he's in trouble, Buck is dancing.
Not well.
Never well.
Just enough to make Christopher laugh so hard he nearly falls off the couch.
Buck spins dramatically across the Diaz living room, nearly trips over a toy, catches himself, and throws both arms up like he planned it.
Christopher cheers.
Buck bows.
And Eddie forgets how to breathe.
For one stupid, dangerous second.
"You okay?" Buck asks as he drops onto the couch beside Eddie.
"What?"Eddie blinks.
"You've been staring."
"I wasn't staring."
"Sure." Buck grins at him before turning back to Christopher.
Like he hasn't just sent Eddie's heart into complete chaos.
At first, Eddie tells himself it doesn't mean anything.
Buck is Buck.
He loves people loudly.
He fills every room he enters.
He makes everyone feel important.
Special.
Chosen.
That's just who he is.
So when Eddie's pulse jumps every time Buck smiles at him, that's his problem.
Not Buck's.
Then Buck starts dating someone.
Seriously.
Not another short-lived fling.
Not another almost-relationship.
Something real.
Something lasting.
Someone who makes him happy.
Eddie tells himself that's what he wants.
What kind of best friend wouldn't?
So he smiles.
Asks questions.
Offers support.
And then spends entire nights staring at his ceiling wondering why it feels like he can't catch his breath.
"You know," Hen says one afternoon, "you're being weird."
Eddie nearly drops his coffee. "I'm not being weird."
"You looked ready to commit homicide because Buck got a text message."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did." Hen studies him.
Then her expression softens. "Oh."
Eddie immediately hates that look. "What?"
"You haven't figured it out yet."
"Figured what out?"
Hen just shakes her head before she walks away.
Which is somehow worse.
The breaking point comes months later.
A structure fire.
A bad one.
The kind that turns daylight orange.
The kind that makes every firefighter's instincts scream.
Buck is inside when part of the building gives way.
The radio erupts with voices.
Orders.
Warnings.
Chaos.
But all Eddie hears is Buck's name.
Buck.
Buck.
Buck.
Something inside him snaps.
Fear strips away every excuse he's ever built.
Every denial.
Every carefully maintained lie.
Because suddenly there is only one truth left.
He cannot lose him.
Buck survives.
Of course he survives.
Buck always survives.
But later, when Eddie is leaning against the truck after the fire is extinguished, Eddie notices his hands are still shaking.
Buck notices too.
He always notices.
Without a word, Buck reaches over and squeezes his wrist.
Grounding him.
Steadying him.
The same way he has for years.
The same way no one else ever could.
And Eddie realizes he's tired.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of settling.
Tired of watching his life happen from a safe distance.
"You ever think we're idiots?" Eddie asks quietly.
Buck laughs. "Constantly."
"No. I mean..." His voice catches.
Buck's smile fades.
The air shifts.
"Eddie?"
Eddie looks at him.
Really looks at him.
At the man who's become the center of his world without either of them noticing.
Or maybe they'd both noticed.
Maybe they'd just been too afraid.
"Do you love him?" Eddie asks.
Buck goes still. "My boyfriend?"
Eddie nods.
A long silence follows.
Then Buck looks away.
And that's answer enough.
Not because Buck does.
Because he doesn't.
Not the way he wants to.
Not the way he deserves to.
"Eddie..."
"You don't have to explain."
"I think I do." The firelight from the scene dances across Buck's face.
For a moment he looks scared.
And hopeful.
At the same time.
"I kept thinking eventually I'd get over it."
Eddie's pulse pounds. "Over what?"
Buck laughs softly.
A little broken.
"Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?"
And suddenly Eddie understands.
Every look.
Every almost.
Every moment.
All those years.
The fire had never belonged to just one of them.
"You know what's funny?" Buck says.
"What?"
"I always thought you were the brave one."
Eddie smiles before shaking his head. "Not when it comes to this."
Buck takes a step closer.
Neither of them looks away.
"Maybe we stop being brave, then."
Eddie's heart stutters. "Yeah?"
Buck nods. "Yeah."
And Eddie kisses him.
Because life is short.
Because fires burn out.
Because some things are too important to keep pretending.
And because they've already wasted enough time.
When Buck kisses him back, it feels like standing in the middle of a wildfire and finally realizing neither of them was ever meant to run from it.
Together, they become exactly what they've been trying not to be.
A firestorm.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
And entirely unstoppable.