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“No. This one was all you.”
Eddie’s ears are still ringing with the force of the explosion. His heart is still in his throat from watching Buck vanish into the dust and concrete collapsing all around him. Those seconds, minutes, hours it took for Buck to burst free of the cloud might make Eddie go prematurely grey.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because Buck is here, landing on the top floor of this damn parking garage, covered in dust and soot but smiling, his cheeks puffed up so high his eyes all but disappear with the sheer size of his unfettered glee.
But Eddie can see them, and Buck doesn’t look away. People scramble around him, unhooking him from his harness and freeing him from the zipline, but his blue eyes stay on Eddie, even when Ravi throws himself at Eddie, gasping and laughing in relief.
Buck says, “No. This one was all you,” and Eddie feels alive—he feels fucking alive, for the first time since Chris left, since Eddie blew up his entire life to chase him down instead of stepping up as his dad, since Eddie said goodbye to Buck on a rainy morning with cookies in his hand and a lump in his throat and Buck standing there, curls frizzy in the rain and eyes sad but mouth propped up with a smile, however weak and wobbly.
And Eddie can’t contain it anymore. It bubbles up in his chest, chokes the breath from his lungs, propels him forward.
He pushes through the crowd and couldn’t care less that Buck is still tangled up in his harness, couldn’t care less that they’re not alone. Couldn’t care less that he’s barely had a moment to breathe since he heard Buck was putting in for a transfer.
He grabs Buck’s face—his dirty, soot-covered face, eyes bright and lips pink—and kisses him, right there in the middle of the crowd. Right there in the broad light of day, god as his witness, the 118 around him.
It’s their family. It’s Eddie’s family. And he’s done depriving himself of joy.
Buck laughs into Eddie’s mouth, gloved hands catching on Eddie’s shoulders. Voices swirl around them, but they’re wind past his ears, not worth listening to.
He pulls back for a breath, nudges their noses, and Buck laughs again, breathes, “Eddie?” and Eddie says, “Yeah,” and dips back in to catch Buck’s bottom lip between his, brush his thumb over the corner of Buck’s mouth, lick at his teeth when Buck gasps and welcomes Eddie’s tongue, and Eddie’s heart sings.
This is what it feels to be alive: the 118 around him. The sun shining. A job well done.
And Buck, kissing him back, kissing Eddie like he’s wanted this for as long as Eddie has. Like this is the answer he’s been seeking all along. He was just waiting for Eddie to join him at where the X marks the spot.
“Uh,” says Ravi, too close to Eddie’s ear, “you know we’re still here? That we’ve still got a building to see to? People to save?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says into Buck’s mouth, catching Buck’s weight when he finally staggers out of the harness, leaning heavily against Eddie’s chest as he heaves away from the zipline. But Buck doesn’t pull away from Eddie’s mouth, so Eddie doesn’t pull away from Buck’s.
“Yeah, I know,” he says again, and kisses Buck, licks into his mouth, breathes Buck’s laugh in like oxygen. Like joy. “But I’m home. And he’s staying.”
Buck’s eyes light up. “I am?”
“Yeah.” Eddie laughs and steals another kiss. Buck gives it, free of charge, because he wants this too. Eddie has never been more sure of anything in his life. “With the 118. In my house. With me. And not on the damn couch.”