Chapter Text
Buck had been telling himself for weeks that everything was normal.
He tried to convince himself that Halloween was just a fluke—something Eddie had needed to burn out of his system. It was just one night; something they could put away in a drawer and never open again. Maybe it should’ve been. But sometimes, when Buck replayed it in his head, he swore he could still see the look in Eddie’s eyes—like he wanted to burn the whole world down and stay behind with Buck in the ashes.
And Buck couldn’t act like everything was normal again, not when Eddie’s very presence filled every corner of his being, and all he wanted to do was drown in it. It felt like their gazes were more drawn to each other than ever. He was sure the way Eddie’s hand brushed his was intentional, like he knew exactly what it would do to him.
They carried on anyway. Thanksgiving came and went, and the 118 were together for it like always.
Christmas was the same; stockings hung high for all three of them, a tree glowing in the corner of the living room, lights twinkling against the windows. Christopher ripped into presents with that kind of uncontained joy that made the whole house feel brighter. Buck sat cross-legged on the rug across from him as Eddie leaned against the arm of the couch next to Buck, watching it all with that soft smile he always did. For every gift Chris opened, Buck and Eddie shared excited grins between each other, bracing themselves for his reaction to each present.
They didn’t even think twice about it. Somewhere along the way, holidays had just stopped being a separate ordeal and just became theirs—one set of plans folded seamlessly into the other. It felt natural, like this was how it was always meant to be.
It was nice, the picture of a family.
But Buck couldn’t stop feeling the weight of Eddie’s hands gripping him like he was the only thing tethering him to the earth. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Eddie had looked at him like he could lock him in place with his eyes alone. He could still feel the way he held him after, like he would never let go.
And now, it was New Year’s Eve again.
A year since a drunken pact became something bigger.
Buck still didn’t know if Eddie even fully meant it.
He didn’t know what any of it meant. He thought back over the events of the last twelve months and the trail of wreckage they’d both left behind, like nothing else could survive between them.
Everything had just been building to this night: the fake gas leak, the toothache, the spilled wine. Thinking about the beach made his head spin; Buck was pretty sure that was the moment they flew by the point of no return. He could still feel the way the waves shoved them together, their bodies rutting against each other like the ocean had made the choice for them. The bed incident was another beast, and Buck could still feel the desperation that drove his hips forward and his teeth down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
And then, well, Halloween.
After every single moment, they never stopped—never slowed down.
They just went right back to living, as if sabotaging each other’s love lives was the most natural thing in the world.
The question was: Why?
Why had they done it? Why had they kept going? Why hadn’t Eddie ever called him out or told him to stop? Why had Buck himself never stopped Eddie?
The thought had been haunting him for weeks now, so loud he could barely hear anything else. He had an idea as to why, but the thought rattled him to his core. Had they both been tearing at each other’s lives just to make sure no one else fit? Had they been keeping each other single for this exact moment? For the possibility of actually following through on the pact?
Deep down, Buck knew the truth—every ruined date and wrecked night had been about holding on. Every desperate moment where they’d touched each other like they just couldn’t help themselves had been about making sure there was no room for anyone else. It was all to make sure that when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve, they had no choice but to choose each other.
The scariest part was how badly Buck wanted it to work out.
Thoughts raced around his head as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, running his trembling, restless hands through his hair. His reflection stared back at him, pale under the yellow light.
Because what if he was wrong?
It was possible that Eddie had just been playing along. There was a chance that all the wrecked dates and entangled nights had been nothing more than a temporary lapse of judgment. Maybe the pact hadn’t haunted Eddie the same way it had been haunting Buck. Maybe Eddie wasn’t counting down the weeks and hours for tonight.
He leaned closer to the mirror, hands braced on the sink as he watched the way his chest rose and fell too fast. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Eddie had looked at him the night they first made the pact, wearing that bright and easy smile that made Buck feel alive in ways he never had before.
Over the course of the last year, every glance had gotten more charged, and every moment of silence was filled with a new kind of longing. There was a shift every time their bodies had collided in ways they couldn’t take back. He thought about how desperately he wanted all of it to mean something—to mean everything.
He swallowed hard and glanced down at his hand, the ring catching the bathroom light. The silver metal flickered at him under the lightbulbs, like it was already laughing at the idea that he’d ever be able to let this go. He would probably be wearing this ring for the rest of his life.
Buck pressed his fingers to the cool counter, his chest tightening.
He wanted Eddie—plain and simple. He wanted him in every way a person could want someone, but he didn’t know how to say that without ruining everything they already had. He didn’t know how he would move on from everything they’d done this year.
He stared at his reflection like it would have an answer, and the countdown kept ticking.
By the time Buck made it to Bobby and Athena’s, the house was already pulsing with music and laughter. He could hear it from the street, the sound of clinking glasses and voices raised high. He could feel the warmth of the 118 already. He tightened his jacket against the winter air.
The warmth hit him immediately, lights strung along the walls with a fire burning low in the corner; the soft chaos of family scattered everywhere. Bobby stood by the kitchen with a spatula in one hand, his tie already loosened. Athena stood by him, chatting idly with Harry and May, a glass of wine in her hand. Chim and Hen were talking to a few other members of the 118 invited to the party; most of the station was there, actually.
And Eddie was there, of course.
Buck spotted him instantly across the room, standing off just to the side with a beer in hand, head tilted back slightly as he laughed at something Ravi was saying. His shirt was crisp, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked so effortlessly good that Buck’s chest clenched, the fear in him clashing harshly with the ache.
He hadn’t arrived with Eddie tonight. Eddie had offered at the door, asking if Buck was ready, but Buck had hung back and mumbled something about needing to finish getting ready. He lied and said he had to refluff his hair—whatever that meant. Eddie didn’t question it. He just nodded and said he’d drop Christopher off at Pepa’s before meeting him there. Buck couldn’t bring himself to walk in with him; not tonight, when it felt like his whole heart was splintering in his chest.
But now, staring at him across the room, it hit Buck like a train: Eddie already looked like home. He looked like everything Buck had ever wanted.
He forced his legs to move, slipping off his jacket and weaving toward the kitchen. Eddie turned at the motion, catching his gaze instantly—because of course he did—and just for a second, Buck let that look swallow him whole.
“Buck!” Chim exclaimed the second Buck stepped into the kitchen, lifting his glass. “There you are, we were just about to toast without you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Buck shot back automatically, forcing a grin as Hen shoved a shot glass into his hand.
“So, you getting engaged tonight, Buckley?” Chim asked cheekily, a shit-eating grin on his face. Buck’s stomach dropped, and his throat went dry at the reminder that everyone knew what tonight meant.
Hen’s elbow jabbed into his side. “Hey, don’t.”
“So,” Buck interjected, clearing his throat, “what are we drinking?”
“Tequila,” Hen told him as Eddie and Ravi walked in, handing them the small cups as well.
Glasses clinked all around. Buck could feel Eddie’s presence beside him. Glancing down, Buck saw Eddie lick his hand before pouring a bit of salt on it for the shot. His eyes caught Buck’s, and then so casually it could’ve passed for nothing, he extended his hand out—not to his own mouth, but to Buck.
Buck froze.
The kitchen was alive around them as Chim counted down the toast. Nobody seemed to notice Eddie’s hand stretched out to Buck. The group all lifted their glasses and tilted their heads back. In that second, Buck’s body moved before his brain could catch up. He dipped forward, his lips brushing Eddie’s skin as his tongue darted out, dragging the salt into his mouth. A spark lit up inside of him, and he had to fight to keep from swaying into Eddie entirely.
It struck him that he could taste Eddie’s saliva underneath the salt; the faintest trace of him clung there, hidden beneath the sharp sting of salt. Buck wanted to drown in it. He wanted to drag his tongue across Eddie’s skin again and again until it was clean. He wanted to taste Eddie until he was raw, and he consumed every last trace of him.
Without taking his eyes off Buck, Eddie lifted his glass and poured the drink down his throat, Buck following suit. Eddie’s mouth quirked, like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. Buck winced at the burn, but couldn’t taste anything but Eddie, the flavor of him sealed to his tongue.
Eddie brought the lime to his mouth with a sharp bite before handing it over to Buck, who took it without any hesitation. The second the citrus hit his tongue, he nearly moaned. He could taste the remnants of Eddie’s spit mixed with the sour juice, and it undid him. His eyes slipped shut, head tipping back, letting it flood his mouth like he was starving. He wanted to suck it dry, to press his mouth to Eddie’s and chase it straight from his tongue.
When he opened his eyes again, Eddie was still watching him with hooded eyes.
The room roared back to life as Ravi coughed through his shot; Hen shouted about his weak tolerance while Chim declared round two was inevitable. Buck blinked hard as he tried to shake the haze, but Eddie’s taste was still coated across the crevices of his mouth. It wasn’t the tequila, it was just Eddie. Even in the middle of a crowded kitchen, Buck felt like he’d just been dragged under, tethered only to him.
He was still reeling when Maddie sidled up beside him, her glass in hand. She studied him with a knowing gaze that had always unnerved him. It was the kind of look that made him feel every emotion he tried to bury.
“So,” she started, almost casual, “how are you feeling about tonight?”
Buck straightened immediately, heart jolting into his throat. “What do you mean? I don’t—I don’t know what you mean.”
Her eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t press. She just gave a small, knowing smile, her eyes flicking once toward where Eddie was still at the counter, laughing at something Hen said.
“Nothing,” she said smoothly. “But if you do want to talk about anything… you know where to find me.”
Buck’s pulse hammered. He tried to force a laugh and make it seem like it was nothing, but his chest burned with the weight of her words. Because Maddie knew—naturally. She knew him like the back of her hand. And if she was looking at him like that, it was because she’d already pieced together what Buck was too scared to say out loud.
But maybe, just maybe, if Buck just acted normal, then Eddie wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●
The first thing Eddie noticed about Buck was that something was wrong.
He could always tell. He’d spent years working side by side with Buck—reading him was practically his first language. Eddie felt it tugging at him because if something was wrong with Buck, then his own body couldn’t rest easy. It had been like that for so long now that Eddie sometimes wondered if Buck had rewired him entirely. It was like Eddie’s instincts had been reshaped, now pointing only towards Buck.
The party boomed all around him, but Eddie couldn’t stop watching the nervous twitch of Buck’s hands or the way his mouth seemed to move without him even realizing. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed normal, maybe. But Eddie knew better—he could feel the current running under Buck’s skin. Eddie wanted to close the space between them. He wanted to press his hand against the back of Buck’s neck until he relaxed, to feel the tension leave his own spine as it left Buck’s.
But he couldn’t.
He didn’t even know what Buck wanted—all Eddie knew was that the pure want inside himself was too much. He wanted Buck in ways that scared him; he wanted to keep him. But guilt clung to Eddie like a second skin, and it warned him that wanting Buck this much was dangerous. He carried so much regret already, and he couldn’t let Buck be something he ever regretted.
But even as those thoughts churned, Eddie’s eyes never left him. Buck’s hair caught the light in a way that made Eddie’s chest ache. His hands moved as he smiled at something Hen said, but Eddie could tell the smile didn’t reach all the way—his mind was elsewhere, Eddie could feel it. It was a restless thing; his fingers twitched around the beer bottle.
He wanted to walk over and ask Buck what was wrong. They always confided in each other, but tonight, there was a wall there, and Eddie hated it. He hated the way Buck wouldn’t meet his eyes for too long, or how he seemed to slip away before Eddie could even think to walk over to him.
Eddie didn’t know what it meant, and that was what terrified him the most. It was possible that Buck didn’t want to go through with the pact; maybe he was avoiding Eddie to spare his feelings and not have to reject him. But either way, there was a pull in his chest, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
Taking a step forward, Eddie began to weave through the guests, his gaze fixed on Buck. He wasn’t just going to stand across the room and let himself unravel like this. The simple solution was just to jump into a conversation and get an idea of how Buck was feeling.
But then Buck moved, as if Eddie’s path across the room had set off some silent alarm inside his brain. Before Eddie could reach him, Buck had already slipped into the crowd, smiling at people and striking up a conversation with someone halfway across the room. Eddie froze; the ache in his stomach twisted hard. Buck was avoiding him.
He wanted to chase after him, to grab his wrist and hold him still, but doubt stopped him cold.
Eddie swallowed hard, forcing his lungs to fill. His eyes landed on Ravi by the drinks table, fiddling with a cup. Ravi spotted him and nodded at him to come over. A sense of ease flowed through Eddie as he crossed over to him.
“Hey,” Eddie said, setting his bottle down beside Ravi’s cup. “How’s it going?”
Ravi grinned at him, his eyes warm. “You kidding? This is the party of the year, man.”
“Seriously?” Eddie asked, a bit taken aback. “Feel like New Year’s kinda just comes and goes for me.”
“I mean,” Ravi started with a shrug, glancing around, “nice to just be around people, though, right? Can’t really ask for better.”
Eddie nodded in agreement; his excitement was infectious. “Yeah, I just—I don’t know, man. Something’s up with Buck, I think.”
That set something off in Ravi, who immediately straightened his back and began to ramble, “I swear to God, if you leave for Texas again and leave me to hear all of Buck’s stories about you again, I will—”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about? I’m not leaving for Texas,” Eddie hastily interrupted as his brain tried to catch up. “Buck did what?”
“Yeah, Buck dragged me out to some bar one night,” Ravi explained, waving his hand aimlessly. “He talked about you for hours, dude. And I mean hours, okay? You have no idea how much I know about you now.”
Eddie’s pulse stuttered. “He talked about me?”
“Yes, you,” Ravi confirmed. “At one point, I saw Tommy across the room and figured I’d save myself. I brought him over to the table and left before Buck could start in on another story.”
Letting out a groan, Eddie said, “God, man, Tommy is the worst.”
“Hey, I don’t know anything about the two of them, alright?” Ravi said defensively. “I just wanted to leave. I couldn't listen to another hour of Buck mooning over you.”
Eddie’s chest tightened so hard he thought he might choke. “He… he really talked about me that much?”
“Constantly,” Ravi said simply, his voice softening. “Honestly, back when I first joined, I thought you two were together. Like, married together.”
Coughing into his drink, Eddie sputtered in shock. His hand came up to his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. “You what?”
“What was I supposed to think!” Ravi exclaimed as his shoulders came up to his ears. “You guys were always together, and Buck was always going on about your guys’ kid. I don’t know, it just seemed obvious. But then I saw you with that girl—what was her name? Ana? I don’t know, guess I just figured maybe you were divorced or something, just co-parenting Chris, you know?”
“I—” Eddie started, blinking as he cleared his throat. “I guess I can see why you thought that? But no, no, it’s never been like that. We just…” he heaved a sigh, his gaze darting over to Buck, “we just are.”
The sentence felt unfinished, but it was all he had. Because there was no clean way to explain him and Buck—there had never been a word that fit.
Ravi tilted his head, watching him carefully before giving a small shrug. “Yeah, I mean, sometimes that’s all it is, right? Doesn’t have to fit into a box. You can just be.”
Eddie looked back at him, startled by the simplicity of it.
Ravi’s grin softened into something earnest. “Look, man, I know tonight feels like it’s got all this pressure on it—everyone’s watching, everyone’s waiting… but from the outside?” He gestured loosely to himself. “It already looks like you picked each other a long time ago. I don’t think a clock striking midnight changes that.”
A twist went through Eddie’s chest, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wanted to believe that and sink into the relief of it. But the fear still clawed at him.
Ravi clapped a hand to his shoulder, squeezing once. “My point is… nothing really changes tonight unless you two let it. So, maybe stop worrying about what it’s supposed to be, and just… be.”
Eddie swallowed hard, the words settling in his chest. It wasn’t always easy for him to let comfort soak over him; most of the time, it slid right off him, blocked by guilt before it could take hold. But there was something about the simplicity of Ravi’s words that didn’t allow any room for Eddie’s brain to twist it into something sharp. For the first time all night, the restless buzz under his skin dulled, just enough for him to breathe.
He glanced back at Ravi, his voice low as he said, “For the record, you’re not on the outside.”
Ravi’s face softened, his hand giving another small squeeze. “Let’s go find the others, okay?”
Eddie nodded, letting himself get steered back toward the noise. The living room was alive with it—flashes from the corner rented photobooth every few seconds. Buck’s laugh spilled out between curtains as different people squeezed inside with him. Hen stumbled out, laughing with her head thrown back as Maddie ducked inside, the curtains closing behind her.
He caught flashes of Buck in between the curtains, and something about him just made Eddie’s pulse trip over itself. Buck’s smile lit up the room like it always did; he was grinning ear to ear as he laughed at something Maddie was doing. But underneath his grin, Eddie could still see the strain, his eyes flickering toward the crowd like he was searching for Eddie.
Before Eddie could think better of it, Chim’s hand clapped down on his shoulder. “Your turn, Diaz,” he said with a smirk.
Before Eddie could protest, Chim was shoving him forward.
The curtain swept shut behind him, cutting off the party noise. The seat was too small and the space was too tight; Eddie was crammed down onto Buck’s lap just to fit.
The world outside vanished.
Their bodies were pressed flush together, heat and muscle stuffed into the dark booth. Eddie pressed up against Buck, the back of his shoulder resting against Buck’s chest, his arm brushing the solid line of Buck’s torso. It was too close, but Eddie couldn’t move without moving into him.
Eddie could feel Buck breathing, each inhale shoving against his spine and filling him with something that left him dizzy. The steady hammer of Buck’s heartbeat thudded through his back; it felt like it was pumping blood through Eddie’s own veins, his body tethered to Buck’s.
They were both facing forward toward the waiting camera, but Eddie couldn’t make himself care about the strip of paper that would spit out after. His entire focus narrowed to the press of Buck’s thigh under him, holding him in place like it had been made for this exact moment.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Eddie asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Buck huffed a laugh. “What? No,” he said unconvincingly, his face scrunching. “You’re the one avoiding me.”
Eddie wanted to put Buck in a jar and shake that jar very, very hard.
“Buck,” he said calmly, turning his head just enough to catch the edge of Buck’s jaw in his periphery. “You’re avoiding me.”
“I’m very clearly in a photo booth with you right now,” Buck shot back, his voice tight. “How can I be avoiding you when I’m in a photo booth with you?”
“I was shoved in here,” Eddie said, sharper now, his pulse hammering. “And you still won’t look at me.”
That seemed to do it.
Buck went very still.
Then, slowly, he turned his head.
Their eyes locked, and time seemed to splinter apart. The noise outside of the booth dimmed to nothing, drowned out under the pounding of Buck’s heart reverberating through Eddie’s spine and rattling his bones.
The first flash went off, a white light searing through the corner of his gaze. Buck’s eyes caught his, and Eddie felt the air shove out of his lungs. He could see everything there: fear, want, desperation. Eddie wanted to drown in it.
The second flash burst, and Eddie’s throat closed. His chest ached so hard he thought it might split open, because Buck was looking at him like he was the only thing in the world he could ever possibly want. God, Eddie wanted to hold him, to keep him, to never let this end. His eyes stung, and he blinked too hard, swallowing down the choke rising in his throat.
A third flash, and Buck’s arm shifted beneath him, his hold tightening. It seemed like a reflex, like he needed Eddie closer even when they were already so pressed together. Eddie could feel his fingers dig faintly into his side; it sparked through him like a fire.
The final flash struck, and still they stared. Their gaze never wavered—not once. It was too much and not enough all at once. Eddie’s breath hitched because all he wanted to do was stay there, pinned down by his gaze, carried along by the hammer of Buck’s heartbeat. Eddie leaned into his arms for a moment.
But then the curtain was yanked back.
The two of them jumped, heads snapping towards Chim, who shook his head at them. “You two are so weird, holy shit,” he said with a laugh, tossing the strip of pictures down into Eddie’s lap before letting the curtain fall closed again. His voice was muffled as he said, “Think that’s enough pictures for tonight.”
Eddie stared down at the glossy paper with the pictures all lined up in a row: his body pressed into Buck’s, and their eyes locked onto each other.
Frame after frame, Buck was just looking at him like he was everything to him. It was like Eddie had handed him the entire world, and Buck didn’t know how to hold it except by staring at him like that—like he could keep it if he just didn’t look away.
It was the kind of look that burned right through him. It was like Buck would let the world burn if it meant keeping Eddie right there forever. Every frame caught it, want and awe tangled together, Buck’s eyes fixed on him like Eddie was something sacred and reckless all at once.
And maybe Eddie was looking back the same way, because the longer he stared at the photos, the more it hit him low in the gut: there was nothing casual about the way they were holding each other. He knew there was nothing friendly in the way Buck’s eyes clung to his like there was nothing else worth seeing. It was all right there in four frozen flashes, everything Eddie hadn’t been able to name, burned onto paper like proof.
Part of him wished they could stay like that forever.
He wished the camera could trap them there, where there was no more dodging each other or aching silence between them. They could stay there forever and just exist like that; the two of them looking at each other like the rest of the world had already fallen away.
Every part of him wanted to let go of fear and stop running—to just be.
Ravi’s words echoed in his head: It already looks like you picked each other a long time ago.
Eddie tightened his grip on the photo, staring until the edges blurred.
He wished it was that simple.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●
Buck slipped out from behind the curtain before anyone else could grab him. The hallway was quieter, but his chest still felt too tight. He shoved his copy of the photo strip into his pocket without taking another glance at it.
He didn’t have to turn around to know Bobby was behind him. He had a way of following without a sound. Buck leaned back against the wall, sinking into the cool plaster at his spine. He wanted to vanish into it, but Bobby's hand on his arm held him in place, standing there with that steady kind of presence that always grounded Buck.
“Okay,” Bobby said quietly, settling in across from him. “Talk to me. What’s going on with you tonight?”
Buck’s laugh came out thin and frayed at the edges, more of an exhale than anything else. “Come on, you know what’s going on with me tonight, Bobby.”
“No, I know what the others have told me is going on,” Bobby corrected pointedly, sitting up a bit straighter. “You haven’t told me anything.”
The words pressed into him, and Buck felt his chest tighten like he was underwater. His mind wandered back to the feel of Eddie’s body pressed against his just minutes before. He shook his head, admitting, “I don’t know how tonight ends. I don’t know if Eddie… if he even wants this. I don’t know if it’s just been a game to him, or if—if it means what I think it means. I don’t know.”
The silence that followed was unbearable. Buck forced himself to look up and meet Bobby’s gaze; he found no judgement or pity on his face, only the same look that had pulled him back from the edge countless times before.
“Okay, do you want this?” Bobby asked simply.
Buck’s mouth went dry.
His breath caught in his throat.
The knot in his chest loosened, as if ready to finally release the answer he kept tucked away for so long. The truth had been with him for years now; he just wasn’t ever ready to admit it. It was with him every weekend that he made pancakes for Eddie and Chris. It was with him every movie night that ended with Buck and Eddie tangled up in each other. It was with him every day of this last year, prompting every one of his actions.
“I just want them,” Buck said finally, the words pulled straight from his chest. “Eddie and Chris, you know? I don’t want another version of my life. I—I can’t imagine it.”
The confession left him shakily, like he had been peeled open.
His throat burned, and he pressed the heel of his hand against his chest. “But wanting this—wanting him—that doesn’t mean it’s gonna work. I’ve loved a lot of people, Bobby. I gave everything I had every time, and it wasn’t enough. It didn’t work with Abby, Taylor, not even Tommy.” He left out a slow breath, shaking his head. “So, what makes this any different? Why should I think this won’t end the same way?”
The question hung between them for a few moments.
Bobby didn’t rush to fill the silence. He waited a few moments until Buck’s breath finally slowed enough to look at him. Bobby’s expression was still soft, but his voice was firm. “Because sometimes love isn’t enough on its own, it’s what you do with it. You have to choose every day what you do with that love. You have to show up—and you do, Buck. You show up for Eddie, for Chris, and he shows up for you.”
Buck swallowed hard, his chest still rising too fast. “What if I screw it up? I don’t—I don’t know how to do this.”
“You don’t have to know,” Bobby said, his words coming out calm and even. “You just have to keep showing up, even when you do screw up—especially when you do.”
Buck shook his head. “And if that’s still not enough?”
“Then you try again tomorrow,” Bobby replied simply with a small, knowing smile. “That’s what love is. Not getting it perfect, but still choosing it, every day. That’s what you two have been doing for years.”
Letting out a shaky laugh, Buck rubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t even know how to explain what he is to me, you know? It’s like—” he cut himself off, shoulders slumping as he gave up on finishing.
“You don’t have to explain it,” Bobby said, placing a steady hand on Buck’s shoulder. “You just have to let yourself have it.”
Bobby’s hand squeezed his shoulder once before letting go, the way he always did.
Buck stood there for a beat after Bobby walked back toward the kitchen. He swallowed thickly, the words still rattling through him.
He wanted to believe it—God, he wanted to, but the knot inside him only pulled tighter. Before he knew it, his feet were carrying him down the hall. He had to get away from the noise. He couldn’t stand being around everyone and their prying eyes, not right now.
He needed air.
He needed quiet.
He needed—
Eddie.
He almost collided with him in the narrow hallway. Eddie was moving the opposite way with his head down and shoulders tense. For a second, they both froze.
The air between them thickened. Buck could see a flicker of surprise in Eddie’s eyes as his head snapped up. The sounds of the party dulled all at once, muffled behind the walls, leaving only the thud of Buck’s heartbeat in his ears.
His body moved before his mind caught up. Buck’s palms hit against the wall on either side of Eddie’s shoulders, caging him in. Eddie stilled but didn’t pull back, breath hitching and chest rising, brushing against Buck’s.
Buck leaned into the frame of his own arms, close enough now that the scent of Eddie hit him in waves. His own lungs dragged it in like he’d been starving for oxygen, every inhale scraping sharp down his throat. The hallway felt too narrow, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the house.
Eddie just looked up at him, eyes steady and dark in the low light of the hallway. His shoulders loosened just a fraction, like he’d given himself over to whatever this was. After a beat, his hand slowly rose. Buck felt the brush of his knuckles first, grazing along his jaw as if testing whether Buck would move away; he didn’t—of course, he didn’t. He’d never move away from Eddie. His whole body was strung tight with the need to feel more.
His palm slid higher, curling around the back of Buck’s neck. His fingers threaded into Buck’s curls and held him there firmly. Buck’s breath shuddered out at the contact, his arms bracing harder against the wall, caging them both in even tighter.
Eddie tugged, gentle but insistent, guiding him down toward the curve of his neck. The motion unraveled Buck completely. He let himself bow forward until his lips hovered just over Eddie's skin, the heat of him rolling through the small space.
Buck dragged in a deep breath, Eddie’s scent filling his lungs. It felt like he could finally breathe again after drowning. He inhaled again and again until he felt dizzy, until he couldn’t tell where Eddie ended and he began. Every heartbeat under Eddie’s skin felt like it was pulsing through his own veins, like they were running on the same blood.
All he could do was breathe him in over and over, as though Eddie was the only thing keeping him alive. Eddie’s hand continued to anchor him with his fingers curled in his hair. His mouth hovered at Eddie’s throat, lips barely brushing the pulse there, and Buck’s chest heaved with each ragged breath. He didn’t press his lips against Eddie’s skin, but he breathed him in like it was all he had left.
I just want you. The thought slammed through him, brutal in its clarity. He wanted Eddie like he’d never wanted anything before. He wanted to sink into the steadiness of the hand on the back of his neck. He needed the safety of being held in place like he belonged there. He would do anything to keep this moment frozen in time, the two of them locked in each other, the rest of the world shut out forever.
But the fear crept in, like always. Buck could feel it in his bones—just how much he had to lose if Eddie pulled away. He thought of all the people he’d loved who had let go, and the terror pressed hard against his chest. He couldn’t survive that, not with Eddie.
I don’t want to lose him—I can’t.
Not this. Not him.
The words sat sharp in his throat, but he couldn’t force them out. All he could do was stay there, pressed into Eddie’s neck, breathing him in as though it might be enough to keep him.
Eddie stayed still, hand still gently rubbing Buck’s scalp. Their chests pressed together steadily, breaths tangled as their pulses beat as one. It could have been enough—it was enough—if only Buck could let himself say the words clawing at his throat.
But he couldn’t.
His mouth stayed closed.
His body trembled as he breathed Eddie in again, desperately, clinging to the silence like it could buy him more time.
Eddie felt it—Buck knew he did. He felt it in the way Eddie’s breath shifted out of beat from his own; he was waiting for Buck to break the silence, to name this, to say something, to make it real.
But the words didn’t come.
Eddie’s fingers loosened at the back of his neck, sliding free of his hair. The loss of contact burned, a hollow ache following as Eddie’s eyes searched his, flickering with something raw and longing.
Then Eddie shook his head in the smallest movement and pushed past him. The brush of his shoulder was sharp as he moved down the hall. The front door opened with a rush of cold air, and then Eddie was gone, swallowed by the dark.
Buck’s arms dropped from the wall, his chest heaving like he’d just sprinted into a fire. For a second, he stayed frozen, gutted by the silence. The feel of Eddie slipping out from under him haunted him.
Then, from the living room, he heard it—Hen’s voice rising above the crowd: “Five minutes to midnight!” A cheer followed, glasses clinking and voices buzzing with joy.
Five minutes.
Buck’s stomach twisted. His lungs seized like the air had been ripped out of him.
Five minutes, and the pact that had been his whole world for the past year would end. Five minutes and Eddie was still outside, walking further away with every passing second.
His heart hammered so violently it hurt.
Because suddenly, it hit him—this wasn’t about the pact.
It had never really been about the pact.
The truth was deeper: he had always loved Eddie.
From the first day when Eddie walked into the firehouse, through every season since, there had been Eddie at the center of it. It wasn’t the pact that tied them together, and it wasn’t everything that followed. It didn’t start with that very first sabotage, or the first time their bodies pressed together in ways they never had before. It was something older, built over years of entanglement.
He’d been carrying it for years without ever naming it. But now, with five minutes left and Eddie slipping out of reach, Buck felt it slam into him with a terrifying clarity.
He had always loved him.
He would always love him.
And he knew, if he didn’t say it now, he might never get the chance.
Another cheer from the living room, louder this time as someone called out, “Four minutes!”
Buck shoved forward, legs carrying him down the hall and through the door Eddie had disappeared behind. The winter air slammed into him, but Buck barely felt it. All he felt was that persistent longing in his chest that had been there for years.
The night air was sharp against his skin as he ran outside. Eddie was already halfway across the yard, shoulders tight with his head down, breath hissing in the cold.
“Eddie—wait!” Buck’s voice echoed through the lawn, desperation leaking into his tone. Eddie didn’t stop. His steps only quickened, the crunch of gavel under his boots sharp in the silence. “Don’t—” Buck lunged forward, catching his arm.
Eddie spun around so fast that Buck nearly stumbled, eyes blazing.
“What, Buck?” Eddie shouted, voice fraying at the edges. “What do you want me to say?”
Buck’s chest heaved, heart pounding too hard. “That you’re not just—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard, “that you’re not just walking away from me.”
Eddie’s mouth twisted as he shook his head. “I can’t keep doing this, okay? I can’t keep pretending it’s nothing. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.”
He turned again, shoulders tight. Buck’s chest lurched, panic spiking hot through his bones as Eddie continued to walk away. Something inside Buck tore clean open. “I love you!”
The words ripped out of him. It froze Eddie in place, his breath catching and his body going rigid like the world had gone still around him. He spun back around, eyes wide like he wasn’t sure he heard him right.
Buck pressed forward, his hand clenching uselessly at his sides. “I love you, Eddie. I fucking love you.” His throat burned with it, chest on fire. “It’s not the pact, it’s not just this year—it’s always been you. Since the day I met you, I haven’t… I don’t know how to breathe without you.”
Eddie’s lips parted, a sound catching low in his chest, but no words came.
The muffled roar of the party carried through the walls, someone shouting, “Three minutes!” A cheer followed, the countdown starting.
Buck dragged his hands through his hair, breath ragged. “I don’t need to wait until midnight, I don’t need another second—I know… I know I wanna marry you.” His voice cracked again, tears biting his eyes. “I want you, okay? I want you, and Chris, and this life—our life. There’s nothing else I could want.”
Eddie’s breath came fast, his eyes wet now, too. He shook his head once like he couldn’t let himself have it, as if he was fighting with himself. Buck stepped closer, tears stinging his eyes. “If you don’t want this, say it now. Just say it, and I’ll stop.” His voice shook, desperation leaking into his tone. “Because I can’t—I can’t live without you. I can’t lose you. So, if you don’t feel the same way, stop me. I can’t lose you. I just… please, say something.”
The noise from inside grew louder: ”Two minutes!”
“Buck, I—” Eddie sucked in a sharp breath, practically trembling as if holding himself back.
“Eddie, I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Buck told him pleadingly. “We can do this, you and me—we already do this every day.”
He let out a strangled sound, something between a laugh and a sob. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not simple,” Buck admitted with a wry laugh. “It’s us, man. Nothing’s ever simple when it comes to us. But it doesn’t matter; all I know is that I want you. I want you so fucking badly.”
“What if we screw it up?” Eddie whispered, as if scared to say the words too loudly. “What if we ruin everything, Buck?”
“Then we ruin it together,” Buck swore fiercely. “I don’t care. I’d rather fall apart with you than spend another second pretending I can live without you.”
The chant from inside grew louder, voices shouting out at the one-minute mark.
Buck reached out then, fingers trembling. “Please, Eddie. I don’t want to wait another second. Just… let us have this.”
Wide eyes searched Buck’s face like he was still looking for any sign this wasn’t real. The cold air curled around them, sharp in Buck’s lungs, but all he could focus on was the heat of Eddie standing there, so close and still not close enough. Buck’s hand hovered in the space between them, silently begging for Eddie to reach back.
The chant carried from inside, muffled but insistent: “Ten!”
Eddie’s gaze burned into him, torn open and raw. Buck stood frozen, chest heaving, waiting like his whole life hinged on the next breath.
“Nine!”
Eddie’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes flicked down to Buck’s mouth, then back up, and Buck swore he could feel every nerve in his body reaching for him.
“Eight!”
Closing his eyes for a beat, Eddie let out a shuddering breath. Buck watched as he opened them, and something had shifted.
“Six!”
Slowly, Eddie stepped forward, muttering, “Screw it.”
“Five!”
Buck’s heart jolted. He surged forward too, their paces matching, their bodies pulling together like magnets. Eddie’s hand caught the side of his jaw, Buck’s fingers clutching at his waist like he was afraid he’d vanish.
And then Eddie’s mouth was on his.
“Four!”
The kiss hit like the crash of a wave—years of wanting and wreckage snapping taut between them. Eddie kissed him like he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime, and Buck was the only thing in the world worth the air in his lungs. Buck clung to him, fists curling in his shirt, dragging Eddie closer until there was no space left to claim.
“Three!”
Eddie tilted his head, the hand on Buck’s jaw sliding into his curls and holding him steady, grounding him even as the kiss burned hotter. Buck gasped against him, and Eddie swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss until Buck thought he might dissolve into it. He couldn’t tell whose breath belonged to who, whose heartbeat was thundering through his chest—he could only tell it was Eddie flooding every fiber of his being.
“Two!”
The world shifted beneath his feet as Eddie kissed him harder, like he wanted to brand the moment into Buck’s skin. But there was something else under it—something softer that made Buck’s knees buckle. Every steady beat of their hearts said, I want you, I choose you, you choose me, I love you.
They broke apart just enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together with their mouths still brushing like neither of them wanted to give up even an inch.
“One!”
“Marry me,” Buck whispered, sounding wrecked.
Eddie let out a shaky laugh, his breath stuttering against Buck’s lips. “Yeah, I know, the year’s over.”
“No,” Buck said, more desperate now as he pressed a chaste kiss against Eddie’s lips like he could make him understand. They pulled away after a moment, and Buck’s eyes burned, his voice cracking as he repeated, “Marry me.”
Eddie froze, and his breath caught. “Wait, seriously?”
“I’m not talking about the pact,” Buck rasped, the words tumbling out in ragged pieces. “I’m talking about you, me, every day after this. This isn’t ‘cause of the deal. It was always gonna be you. You’re it for me.”
Wide eyes searched his, Eddie’s chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Buck placed his hands on either side of Eddie’s face, dipping his head down and holding his gaze steadily, a smile twitching at his lips.
“Marry me,” Buck said again, softer this time.
Eddie’s mouth finally opened, his eyes flicking over Buck’s face like he couldn’t quite believe it was real. “Yeah, yes, I’ll marry you.”
Buck made a sound he didn’t recognize, something torn straight from his chest. Eddie surged forward, kissing him hard once before pulling back just enough to whisper, “I love you.”
Eddie’s lip trembled like he was scared to say it. “I love you,” he said again, a little steadier this time, hands coming up to grasp Buck’s wrists. Then again, softer, like he couldn’t stop himself. “I love you. God, I love you so much.”
Letting out a strangled laugh, Buck’s face broke out into a smile. But Eddie didn’t stop—he was kissing Buck's mouth, his cheeks, the corner of his jaw, his birthmark, saying it over and over again like he was trying to catch up for all the times he hadn’t said it before. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Buck wrapped both arms around him, holding on tight as Eddie’s hands gripped at his shirt like he couldn’t get close enough. It was soft and frantic all at once, like they were trying to climb inside each other just to make sure no part of their bodies went untouched. Buck kissed Eddie back wherever he could reach, holding him steady as Eddie kept whispering it between breaths, like saying it was as natural as breathing.
That was how Buck ended the year and began the next—entangled in Eddie, exactly where he’d always been, exactly where he’d always be.
●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●
The house was still half-asleep when Eddie padded down the hallway, the faint smell of coffee and pancakes pulling him toward the kitchen. Light peeked through the blinds in golden stripes, warming the hardwood under his bare feet.
From the living room, the low murmur of video games drifted through the air. Christopher was sprawled across the couch with a blanket thrown over his legs, eyes glued to the screen, and his hair sticking up in about five different directions. Eddie made his way over to him, giving him a tender smile.
“Morning, buddy,” Eddie said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Chris’ head.
“Morning, Dad,” Chris replied with a yawn, smiling up happily at Eddie.
Chris was thrilled when they picked him up on New Year’s Day and told him the news of the engagement. His whole face had lit up in a way that made Eddie’s chest ache. He hugged Eddie first, nearly knocking the wind out of him, but Eddie only hugged him tighter. He darted over to Buck after, beaming at them both like he didn’t know how to contain his excitement.
Eddie smoothed a hand over his son’s messy hair, heart swelling as he made his way over to the kitchen. His eyes landed on Buck, and he felt his chest soften to butter. He was standing at the stove, hair tousled and t-shirt covered in pancake batter, humming off-key under his breath while a pan sizzled in front of him. The coffeemaker stirred softly beside him.
He crossed the kitchen in a few easy strides, sliding his arms around Buck’s torso from behind. Eddie pulled him in tight, chest pressed to his back, and felt Buck immediately lean into it like he’d been waiting all morning for this.
Buck tipped his head back toward him, twisting his head enough to press a kiss to his upper arm before finding Eddie’s mouth just above his shoulder. The kiss was crooked with the angle, but Buck melted back into it completely, like he could fold himself into Eddie if he just pressed close enough.
“I love you,” Eddie breathed out against his cheek.
Buck laughed, head tipping back against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes bright. “Now that I got you started, you just can’t stop, huh?”
Eddie smirked. “You want me to stop then?”
“Never,” Buck said, and the plea in his voice made Eddie’s chest loosen.
“Good,” Eddie whispered, mouth pressing a kiss to Buck’s birthmark. “Because I love you.”
Buck turned in his arms then, kissing him fully now. Eddie sunk into the kiss, breathing into him as his body turned slack, only holding Buck tighter. Pulling apart, Buck chased his lips one last time before saying, “I love you too.”
Eddie couldn’t help but go in for another kiss, body melting into Buck’s. As they pulled back, Buck’s smile was brighter than Eddie had ever seen it, and Eddie felt the thought hit him all at once: I want to do this forever.
He could see it so clearly—mornings just like this one: sunlight cascading over the floorboards, Christopher grumbling tiredly from the couch, Buck at the stove with Eddie holding him close. He could already feel the joy he’d be experiencing for the rest of his life, and he wanted to drown in it. He could feel it in the way Buck laughed into his mouth like Eddie had given him the whole world just by holding him.
Eddie loved him so fucking much it hurt. He loved him like he hadn’t let himself love anything in years. He loved him like he finally wanted to feel joy without bracing for the moment it disappeared.
The coffeemaker dinged, and Eddie turned around to a cabinet, grabbing two mugs. He spun back around to get the coffee, and then he froze.
Buck was on one knee in the middle of the kitchen, Eddie’s ring in his hand, grinning so hard that Eddie couldn’t help but smile too. He didn’t say a word, just held the ring up and raised his eyebrows at Eddie like, Well?
Eddie snorted, shaking his head despite the smile on his face. He crossed the few steps between them, his heart feeling ridiculously light as he held out his hand, nodding at Buck wordlessly.
The smile on Buck’s face only widened as he slid the ring onto Eddie’s finger.
Buck stood, absolutely beaming at him like Eddie just handed him the world. Eddie grabbed his face with both hands the second he was upright, kissing him hard.
When they pulled apart, Eddie gave him a sideways smile.
“So… if we aren’t married in a year—”
“Don’t.”