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Eddie is no longer alive.
He has been on the brink of death a hundred times. He has taken two bullets. He's been beaten, taken punches, lost consciousness. He lost his wife. He's been broken up with and put in the most complicated situation, largely by his own doing.
But nothing, none of those near-death experiences, has ever prepared him for his son leaving.
Christopher has hated Eddie. He's been scared of Eddie. Terrified for Eddie. They have argued like any parent and child.
But not like this. Not when Christopher found Eddie with Kim, looking exactly like Shannon and letting Eddie air his grievances to Shannon on her.
Christopher hasn't so much as looked at Eddie since. Eddie has gone to Buck, his final resort, to fix everything.
But then Eddie's parents showed up. He barely registers the words his parents say. They're taking Chris. His father throws his own words in his face.
Buck has gone to talk to Christopher. Eddie is facing the cannons alone. He feels like someone emptied an AR into his chest.
He feels like a child in the face of his parents. He can't lash out anymore, he's an adult. He can only accept what is happening. No argument. It's like he's being grounded again for smacking one of his sister's toys out of their hands for not shutting up.
He meets Buck's eyes as he emerges from Chris's room. Christopher's backpack is slung over Buck's shoulder, sealing Eddie's fate. Eddie tries not to cry. His hands are trembling. It's coming. It always has been.
From the moment his parents suggested it when Chris was five, Eddie knew one day he would lose his son. Again, when they tried to take Chris after Shannon passed. Eddie was only postponing the inevitable. This was always going to happen. Eddie's canon event.
Chris makes his way out into the hallway. Eddie is so angry. He's shaking. But he can't help but feel those holes bore into his chest. Eddie is only good at ruining everything he touches. Plants, relationship, food, his own son. Eddie is fragile like a bomb.
He forces Chris to look at him. He says I love you far too many times—to make sure he remembers, to remind him. Chris still won't look his way, his eyes sliding to his grandparents.
Eddie stands. He lets his entire life walk out the door.
Buck comes over, grabbing Eddie's shoulder. He feels numb, like Buck is touching him through layers of rubber. This isn't real.
Eddie has never been good at emotions. About allowing himself to feel things. Maybe it has to do with diagnoses he got too late in life. Maybe it's because every feeling is so overwhelming that Eddie can't process them, much less hold on to them for any more than a moment.
But this…
Eddie is reaching levels of death that only stars can understand.
His fist flies into the wall, narrowly missing the decor he has hanging up.
"Eddie," Buck grabs his hand.
Eddie swings again, almost landing against Buck and the wall.
"E-Eddie!" Buck says louder.
Eddie can't see anymore. His eyes are filled with tears. His voice breaks and he's sobbing. Buck sighs, wrapping his arms around Eddie. All of his strength is gone. He nearly buckles to the floor.
"Hey, hey," Buck grabs him under his arms. "Let's go to the couch, okay?"
Buck mostly hauls Eddie over there. He drops Eddie onto the couch.
"Fuck," Buck mutters. "Okay, you bruised your hand and cut it a bit. Don't move."
Of course Eddie managed to hurt himself. He had no one else to hurt. Nothing else to ruin. Everyone should be required to keep at least thirty feet from him. Eddie is a land mine.
Buck kneels down in front of him. Pain comes sharp into Eddie's mind, the only thing he can feel. He becomes hyper-aware of Buck cleaning the wound. He handles Eddie so gently as he wraps gauze around his knuckles.
Buck doesn't even bother to put the first aid kit away. He sits next to Eddie and opens his arms. Eddie flies into Buck's embrace. Buck's pecs make a fairly comfortable pillow. Eddie can't stop crying. He probably won't for at least a few days.
Buck doesn't leave. He gets up a few times. He brings Eddie water. He grabs another box of tissues. He even brings tea. Eddie remains on the couch, frozen. Buck wraps a blanket around Eddie's shoulders as the world outside gets dark.
Damn it. Why must time move without Eddie's acknowledgement? He can't be moving past this. His phone remains in his front pocket. He keeps whispering prayers, hoping Christopher will call.
"Eddie," Buck says. "What do you want to eat?"
Eddie shakes his head.
"I know it feels like the world is ending. It's not. You're still here. Christopher is still out there. He's pissed, but you can't give up on your life. You need to show him you're his dad, strong as ever."
"But I'm not," Eddie gestures. "He left me!"
Buck sighs. "What do you want to eat?"
"I don't want to!"
Eddie curls up, putting his feet on the couch, burying himself further in the blanket. Buck huffs, disappearing elsewhere in the house.
He's probably going to leave. Eddie is the least tolerable person ever. Sly, prickly, and lying bastard he is. No wonder everything abandons Eddie.
The back door shuts. Eddie feels his tears renew. Why does he always do this to himself? Shove everyone away. All he's going to do is end up lonely. A sad, lonely old man whose son never visits him. He's terrible.
Buck has always been there for him. He's always been there for Buck as well, by his side through injuries and accidents, comas and fistfights. Eddie has pushed so hard even Buck won't tolerate his shit anymore.
Buck, who stopped him from destroying his house with a baseball bat. Buck, who cares for his son more than the people who just ripped Chris out of his life. Buck, who has hugged and teased Eddie a million times. Buck, who will step into Eddie's place every time he falls out of it.
Damn it. How could he do that?
The door closes again. Eddie doesn't move, just waits. He's been waiting all day, waiting for more punches to hit him and knock him down.
Buck reenters the living room, yanking the blanket off of Eddie's head. Two white Styrofoam containers sit on the coffee table and one in Buck's hand.
"Sorry, the DoorDash driver got lost," Buck's weight presses into the couch by Eddie's feet. "I ordered from the taqueria downtown, the one you really like the birria from? I got you that and rice and beans, if you're not feeling tacos at the moment."
Eddie stares in disbelief at Buck for a moment. Buck says nothing, turning on Disney+ and selecting a nature documentary from the National Geographic section.
It takes a moment for Eddie to come to life. Watching Buck eat the massive burrito he ordered—probably filled with chicken since it's his favorite—convinces Eddie to eat. He eats one of the birria tacos, dipped in the sauce. He manages to get a second one in him before the sadness roars up again, the quiet mourning and sense of dread churning his insides.
Eddie grabs a napkin and sits for a bit. He watches the documentary. It's currently focused on some creature called Nudibranchs that really just look like colorful sea slugs.
"They're like if drag queens were slugs," Buck chuckles.
Eddie finds himself smiling a little at that. He feels all right enough, reaching for the rice and beans.
Buck eventually takes the containers to the fridge. Buck returns with more water for Eddie. He drinks most it. Buck settles back into the couch. Eddie lays his head on Buck's shoulder.
It sucks, everything that happened today. He's going to be in a period of mourning for a bit. Eddie thought he had a few years before he would have to worry about an empty nest.
"Hey," Buck whispers as the documentary starts reviewing the difference between brittle stars and starfish. "I hope you don't mind, I called Bobby. He said your choices are taking off or being man behind tomorrow."
"Why would you do that?" Eddie glares.
"I know you still want to work and you probably don't want to be home alone, but you're also not in a good head space to work tomorrow. It's all I could convince Bobby of."
Eddie would have rather thrown himself headfirst into working. Emergency after emergency, no room to think. Hell, he might have even dared to utter the forbidden q-word if it meant avoiding his thoughts tomorrow.
But Buck might have done that for him. Man behind means cleaning and there's no shortage of spaces to clean in the firehouse.
"Thanks," Eddie mutters.
"No problem."
Eddie looks back up at Buck. When did Buck become the more responsible out of the two of them? Was this just growth? Buck has grown so much as a person since the two of them met.
It confuses Eddie to the core. When did he start to value and utilize Buck when parenting this much? That's the whole reason Buck was here. He was to help Chris come out of his room. Yet, he stayed. Buck always stays, even if it's best that he didn't. Eddie admires that about him.
Admiration alerts something in Eddie. When was that a thing? Deeper than someone would feel for a friend, stronger than even siblings cared to be. Eddie cares and loves and admires Buck.
Love is new too. Not that Eddie didn't love Buck, they've always expressed so in a platonic, dude-bro sort of manner. This is different. When did it grow into something…more?
"Buck," Eddie says quietly.
"Hmm?" Buck glances over.
Eddie can't believe himself. He reaches over, gingerly holding Buck's jaw, and kisses him. Buck's breath catches, Eddie can feel its stark absence against his skin. Eddie pulls back.
"What was that for?" Buck scans every bit of Eddie's face.
"Because I'm an idiot."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"I don't know, Buck. I don't know when you became more to me and I only have myself left right now and I'm barely hanging on. I liked that. I might like you. I'm just—"
"Scared," Buck nods. "I get it. That's exactly how I was with—"
"Don't say his name."
"Fine, but that's how I felt the first time too. It doesn't feel bad, though, right?"
Eddie shakes his head. "Can I have more?"
Buck obliges him. It might be the best thing in the world right now.
Somehow, Eddie ends up straddling Buck's waist, an eager, teenage erection underneath him. Eddie is a sensible man. His erection doesn't begin until Buck's fingers are pushing teasingly into his waistband.
"Is this too fast?" Buck asks.
Eddie shakes his head. He wants this. It's putting him out of his mind. It's a welcome distraction.
Buck continues on, removing Eddie's erection from his boxers. Once he has Eddie in his bare hands, Eddie forgets all the sorrow and dread and mourning. All he can think of is Buck's beautiful, callused hands running the length of his cock.
"Yours," Eddie heaves. "I want yours."
Buck lifts his hips, giving Eddie the room to move his pants down. Eddie hesitates for a moment as he can feel Buck's warmth, his hardness, through the soft fabric of green boxer briefs. Eddie pushes onward—he is not a selfish lover.
He starts to palm the length of Buck's cock. He gathers wetness from the tip with his thumb, roaming over Buck's head. Buck does the same to Eddie, making him keen. Buck mouths along Eddie's neck, leaving little bites along the skin.
Buck holds Eddie closer. "It's okay."
Eddie didn't even notice the tears streaming down his face.
"I know— don't stop."
Eddie relishes in the noises Buck makes. He's not quiet in any aspect of his life apparently.
He's too focused on making Buck feel good to notice his orgasm building before it's too late. Eddie's forehead hits Buck's collarbone, voice pitching in waves as he cums all over Buck's shirt and hand. It must be nice though, because Buck starts shooting off in Eddie's grasp.
They don't say anything for a moment, trying to catch their breath. The semen on Eddie grows cold and uncomfortable though, so Eddie forces himself into the bathroom.
He spends a fleeting moment looking at his face in the mirror. Eddie looks exhausted, his eyes red and puffy from far too many tears. He cleans himself off with soap and a washcloth.
"Eddie," Buck comes up behind him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It just...got uncomfortable."
Buck huffs a laugh. "You're not fine, Eddie. You're the furthest thing from fine right now."
"I'm fine about this— about us. I'm not freaking out or anything."
"Kinda seems like you are…just a tiny bit."
Eddie leaves, heading down the hall to his room. He changes into more comfortable clothes. He hesitates, but he grabs something for Buck as well.
Eddie desperately does not want to be alone right now.
Buck leans in the doorway, casual and cool. Eddie can't even decipher his own thoughts.
"Well," Buck says. "It is late."
"Please don't leave," Eddie blurts out.
Buck smiles. "Okay, Eddie. I will stay."
Eddie pats the bed next to him. "You can wear these, if you want something more comfortable."
Buck grabs the clothes, changing out of Eddie's view. But then he crawls onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Eddie.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Buck whispers.
"No. Seeing my son leave was hard enough, I can't relive it or I'll break."
Buck chuckles. "I, uh, meant what happened between us. Like was this something that you did out of loneliness or—"
"No," Eddie flies around, anger etching his features. "No, absolutely not. Everything that happened today made me realize I let you so far into my life and you can't even be turned away when I'm at my worst. And I love that about you, Evan. This isn't loneliness. This is me wanting and needing you too."
"I was just making sure," Buck kisses Eddie's forehead. "You had a lot of big emotions today."
"I got scared that…" Eddie looks away. "That you were fed up with me too. It scared me more than I care to admit. But you came back and I realized you mean so much more to me than I remembered."
Buck huddles into Eddie's neck. "Good luck getting rid of me, Eddie. You're stuck with me for life."
Eddie prays it's true. He lies down, Buck pulling the sheets around them. Buck's arms wrap around Eddie. For once, Eddie doesn't mind being smaller than Buck. He could hide here forever.
"This feels right," Eddie admits.
"It's almost like it was meant to be."
Eddie prays that it is.