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It starts the morning after his breakup with Natalia.
The night he and Natalia broke up, Buck actually wasn’t feeling too bad about it. He could see it coming from a mile away. Maybe some part of him was relieved it was happening—rip off the bandaid, y’know?
They liked each other. Sure. But love? But soulmates? No. That wasn’t them. There was no use crying over a relationship that never made him feel secure. Or at least that’s what Buck tells himself.
He doesn’t cry about Natalia. At first.
As soon as he had hugged Natalia goodbye—an awkward hug with the urge to say ‘I’ll see you when I see you!’ but knowing that day would never come—Buck called Eddie. Of course he did. He’s his best friend. That’s what you do after breakups. Drink beer and eat ice cream with your best friend. It had nothing to do with this longing in his heart he’s been ignoring that drums to the beat of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
Eddie yelled “it’s open!” from the kitchen when Buck knocked. He had a key. He just kinda likes it when Eddie comes to the door and gives him a big hug right away—knowing it’s one of the best ways to comfort his best friend. Eddie knows him so well.
They drink and talk and play some COD and eventually, it’s time to sleep.
“Hey, where’s my stuff?” Buck asks, opening the linen closet and finding nothing but towels and dishcloths, not the sheets Eddie keeps for when he sleeps on the couch. Buck loves and hates it—calling it “his stuff”. He loves it because it’s his, something meant just for him in Eddie’s house, something other people hypothetically could stake claim to, but really, who else is sleeping over at Eddie’s place this much. And he hates it. Because, well, it’s his, it’s meant just for him. The extra sheets and pillows are meant for him when there’s already sheets and pillows on Eddie’s bed they could share. But those aren’t for him. These are for him.
“Laundry, man. ‘Member last time you spilled butter chicken all over everything and I just threw it all in to soak for a bit. Haven’t got around to actually washing them,” Eddie chuckles, almost seeming a little embarrassed, as if not immediately washing a whole bedding set that you don’t even use on top of raising a preteen and working in 24 hour shifts and taking care of the rest of the house is something he should be ashamed of. Eddie works too hard for his own good. Leave the sheets in the basin for a fortnight or more, Buck wouldn’t mind one bit.
“All good,” Buck hums, closing the closet doors and putting his hands in his hoodie pocket. He turns around to face Eddie, clicking his tongue as he waits for Eddie to tell him what to do next. Having Eddie’s guidance always makes him feel better. But it doesn’t come. Eddie is busy cleaning up from their midnight takeout order.
“So… I’ll just,” Buck starts after a few seconds, “I’ll be fine, I’ll, uh, see you in the morning,” Buck goes over and lies down on the couch, never mind the fact it’s already technically the morning.
“What? No, c’mon,” Eddie beckons Buck down the hall as soon as he’s thrown out the takeaway bags. “Not gonna make you use one of those lumpy throw pillows Hen got me,” Eddie’s already taking off his shirt as they enter his bedroom. Buck knew he slept shirtless but. Wow.
“You sure?” Buck asks, sheepishly standing in the doorway as Eddie moves around his room with ease, moving some of the pillows on his side of the bed over to the other, to Buck’s side.
“‘Course,” Eddie replies simply. And that’s that.
It all kinda hits Buck at 9am. An odd time to have an epiphany slash breakdown about your worth and value as a person. But he couldn’t sleep for most of the night. For the first little bit after they got into bed, he was so euphoric and still a little tipsy that it was easy to nod off.
At about 8am, however, his internal timer went off and it was time to wake up for work despite the fact it’s their day off. So he tried to get back to sleep. But then the thoughts came. Going over everything that happened yesterday, no longer able to escape the dreadful feelings with alcohol or with chats from his best friend.
He doesn’t want to wake Eddie up. He looks so peaceful sleeping and damn it if Buck doesn’t think he deserves to be peaceful a little longer. Eddie deserves it more than anyone. He thinks this is the first time he’s seen peace on Eddie’s face in a while. He doesn’t even let himself think for a second that it’s because Eddie’s in bed with him.
Soon, Buck is drowning. All the ‘she saw me. She saw me and she still didn’t love me right. There was no reason for it not to work out. The problem is me. I’m unlovable’-type thoughts are choking Buck and there’s that incessant stinging behind Buck’s eyes and in his nose and he won’t let himself do it. He won’t let himself cry. Until he does.
He sits up in his best friend’s bed, silently sobbing to himself. His relationship is over. When will the next one come along? And when will the next one end? And why will it end? And why did they not love him this time? Why did Abby not love him? Why did Ali not love him? Why did Taylor not love him? His high school girlfriend? His college boyfriend? And it’s not even just romantic. Why did his parents not love him? Why does everything go wrong for him? Why was he brought back to life if he’s never going to be loved the way he loves others. Goddammit Buck.
Buck.
Buck!
“Buck!” Eddie shakes him and for some reason that makes him cry more. He was really hoping to have wrapped up this whole situation before Eddie woke up. Let alone wake him up with it.
“Buck, hey! Evan, what’s wrong?” Eddie asks, putting an arm around him.
“I’m not- I’m- Eddie, I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“No, hey, it’s fine, it’s all good. Breathe. Breathe for me.”
Buck takes a few shaky breaths with Eddie until he doesn’t feel like he’s hyperventilating anymore.
“Fuck,” Buck mutters, almost laughing at himself, wiping the tears from under his eyes until Eddie takes over for him. The big, warm, comforting hands of his best friend dry his tears and scratch his scalp and brush over his birthmark and cheeks. It makes him feel a billion times better already.
“You wanna talk about this?” Eddie asks him. Buck knew this was coming.
“I just-” Buck sighs “why does it never work out for me? Why am I so broken? Y’know? And I know you’re gonna say that’s not true. But, it’s like. Eds, I am. How am I supposed to be loved when I’m so messed up that I-”
“You are loved, Evan. Listen to me-”
“You’re just-”
“No, I’m not. I’m not just saying it because I’m your best friend. There are so many people that love you. It’s okay if Natalia couldn’t.”
“This isn’t even about her anymore. It’s like. I thought she saw me. I thought she loved me. The real me, y’know? But. She didn’t. She couldn’t. And... does anybody else either? Has anybody really loved all of me? Like, everything?”
There’s a few beats of silence where Buck can feel the tears coming back. Every moment that Eddie doesn’t say another word just makes Buck feel even more just in his assessment.
“Buck,” Eddie’s voice breaks. “I need you to listen to me. Don’t think about anyone else. You need proof that you’re loved? All the way? That every single part of you can be loved and cherished? Because I-”
“Eddie-”
“I love you. I love all of you. I love you to the core.”
Buck closes his eyes as more tears slip out.
“To your core, Buck. I love everything about you and everything there is to love. You’re everything to me. All of you. And I know that doesn’t fix what you’re feeling. But never ever tell yourself you can’t be loved in your entirety.”
And maybe Buck wasn’t ready to hear that. But maybe he needed to hear it anyway.
Eddie pulls Buck to his chest as Buck sobs. Half happy tears this time. “I love you to the core,” Eddie whispers.
From then on, it becomes a thing.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him when Buck’s parents make a nasty indirect to him on Facebook.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him when Buck shows up at his door at 1am asking to spend the night away from his cold, empty loft.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him when Buck makes dinner for him and Chris after a rough day.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him when Buck confesses the feelings he’s felt for longer than he can admit.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him in Buck’s Jeep after their first kiss.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him when he invites Buck to move in with him and Chris.
“I love you to the core,” Eddie tells him when Buck wakes up sex-drunk and sleepy on their first anniversary.
At work, before rough calls,
“I love you,” Buck says.
“To the core,” Eddie tells him.
At home, when all at once the dishwasher breaks, and Chris is sick, and the TV remote has been lost for days, and their cat scratches up their new bed frame, and the world just feels like too much,
“I love you,” Buck says.
“To the core,” Eddie tells him.
At the airport before Eddie leaves to visit his parents in El Paso for a month, the longest they’ve ever been apart,
“I love you,” Buck says.
“To the core,” Eddie tells him.
On the roof of the firehouse, when it’s raining and Eddie’s down on one knee,
“To the core, Evan Buckley,” Eddie tells him.
In Bobby and Athena’s backyard on a spring day surrounded by friends and family,
“I promise to love you to the core, to have and to hold you, from this day forth…” Eddie tells him.
But Buck’s favourite is none of those. Buck’s favourite is any time they’re alone together in bed and Eddie holds him to his chest just like he did all those years ago. When Eddie dries his tears with the finger on which he has a matching tattoo. When Eddie runs a hand through his slowly graying blond hair. When Eddie whispers just for him and makes all his worries lighter. “I love you to your very core, mi vida.”