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pairofraggedclawsFandom: 9-1-1
Rating: T
Word count: 3091
Characters/pairings: Buck/Eddie, minor appearances from others
Summary: Three kisses the night of Chimney's bachelor party. (Angst)
Here's one thing Buck can say about Eddie: the man can wear a suit. Buck likes him best when he's relaxed in his ratty sweatpants he never wear out of the house - his uniform is a close second - but Eddie looks damn fine when he's dressed up.
Buck hasn't thought this way about Eddie before, but it's like being with Tommy broke down a wall. All of a sudden, Buck is noticing things about men, the lanky, languid guy who works at the deli counter at the grocery store, making Buck stumble over his words as he orders lunch meats, the short guy - not much taller than Taylor - who delivers Buck's mail, flashing him a grin when they run into each other in the hallway for the third time that week, among others - and Eddie. It mostly just feels fucking great. He's been doing reading on Reddit and people say it's normal to feel a lot after having this kind of realization. To feel like you're stretching and growing to your full height after being constrained for so long. Still, it makes his mind stall for a second every time when he finds himself looking at Eddie with new, wild thoughts spilling everywhere. Even though it's nothing specific - nothing graphic - he just. Notices. It feels like maybe it isn't allowed - like maybe it's a little dangerous to think about Eddie like this.
But, well, Buck is only one bisexual man in this huge world; he can't help it. Eddie's almost ready, and Buck sits on the edge of Eddie's bed and drinks beer while he watches him put on his suit jacket.
Eddie catches his eye in the mirror and Buck smiles and looks away. It's not long before he's watching Eddie again. Eddie's fingers are graceful, tweaking his collar where he wants it, smoothing his jacket, finger-combing his hair. He bites his lip in concentration as he tries to a cowlick to behave, one of those little things Eddie does without even realizing. Eddie's clearly losing the battle against his hair, and he shakes his head at himself in the mirror. Buck barely looks away fast enough to not get caught, that time.
It's a nice night, breezy and warm, and it has a feeling of promise, of excitement, that Buck associates with school dances and sneaking out to parties. They sit in the back of the Uber together, windows down, and Eddie grooves to the music, eyes closed and hair messed up hilariously. Buck isn't gonna tell him.
Somehow, by the time they arrive, they're fighting. Eddie gets out after Buck, actually kind of slamming his door, and Buck throws his hands up. At least no one's here to see them fighting over literally nothing when it's Chimney's bachelor party and of course, they're already late because Eddie always takes forever getting ready.
"Are you seriously - are you angry with me for going out with Tommy?" Buck says incredulously. "You said it was fine. You said I should call him! You - you said it wouldn't be weird." The bottom falls out of his voice, because he truly has no idea why Eddie is acting like this. They were having a normal conversation five minutes ago.
"It's not weird! And I'm not angry!" Eddie snaps, angrily, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. The Uber driver flashes Buck a glance as he pulls out, raised eyebrows and a good-luck-with-that look on his face.
"Then what. Is your problem," Buck says. "Eddie - I like Tommy. There's no reason why I shouldn't bring him to the wedding, he's known Chim for years. And Hen, and Bobby."
"It's just - not - " Eddie seems to struggle with something, and then his shoulders sag and his voice, when he speaks again, sounds totally flat. "It's fine. You're right. I don't know why I got so...yeah."
"Eddie," Buck says, grabbing Eddie's arm when he tries to push past Buck to go inside. "No, no way. You can't freak out at me like that and then leave and pretend everything is fine."
"Everything is fine!" Eddie practically yells, and his eyebrows are pinching together, that look he gets when he's holding back tears. He won't look Buck in the eye.
"You should know me better," Buck says, "than to think I'm just gonna let it slide when you're not okay. I never have. And I never will."
Eddie's mouth twists furiously, his eyes getting brighter, and then he's shoving Buck, pushing him against the brick wall, and Buck thinks, fuck, something is really broken here. He's finally throwing those punches at me, I really fucked up somehow.
That's not what happens. Eddie pushes him, stumbling backwards, until his back hits the wall and then Eddie presses forward with a wounded noise, forehead to forehead with Buck and breathing hard.
"Eddie," Buck whispers, "please - please just tell me what's going on with you."
"I don't know," Eddie says, sounding drunker than he did a second ago. "Buck. Buck." His hands are clutching at Buck's shoulders desperately, like he's afraid Buck will run.
"It's okay," Buck whispers, his eyes falling closed. He wraps his arms around Eddie as well as he can. "Eddie, you're okay. Please just tell me what's wrong."
"I don't know," Eddie says again, just a murmur. Buck feels Eddie's hands touch his neck, cupping it on either side, and Buck thinks - is he gonna - but swipes the thought away before it finishes. Not the time, horny bisexual brain, not the fucking time.
Except - Eddie's closer than he was a second ago, Buck thinks. They're not flush against each other, but Buck can feel the heat that is Eddie, which he couldn't before. Maybe he just wasn't paying attention.
Except - Buck can still feel Eddie's hands, cupping his neck. Not just cupping, even, but his thumbs smoothing up and down the column of Buck's neck.
Except -
There's a tiny, almost nonexistent sound from Eddie; Buck wouldn't have heard it if they weren't this close. Eddie shifts, his head tilting so their noses aren't smushed against each other anymore, and Buck knows a split second before Eddie's mouth presses to his. His heart might stop, the realness of Eddie's mouth on his making him feel like he's been wired to a car battery; and he's pulling Eddie closer now, isn't he. He can't think - he tilts his head to kiss Eddie more deeply, and then his shoulders hit the wall hard, pushing a breath out of him. He opens his eyes to see Eddie, now probably six feet away. COVID distance.
"Sorry," Eddie says, and laughs with an edge of hysteria. "I don't know. I don't. That was."
"Yeah," Buck says. His voice seems to come from the depths of him. "That was - that was a mistake."
"Of course, yeah," Eddie says. "Yeah. I'm with Marisol and you're - Tommy - yeah. I don't, uh. Sorry. I don't know why I did that. Bachelor's party vibes, I guess." And he laughs again, incredibly artificial and sort of manic, and Buck feels fear pulse in his throat.
"I guess," Buck says. His lips feel like they've been remade with brand new molecules and Buck is touching them before he can think better of it. Eddie's eyes snap to his hand - his mouth - and then back up as Buck jerks his hand away, and their eyes meet. For a second, Buck isn't entirely sure he isn't going to stride right up to Eddie and -
"Let's go in," Eddie says, and they do.
So pre-gaming could have been less than a good idea. And Eddie called it, he pointed out that they’re in their thirties, and neither of them drink much generally; they’re gonna end up with hangovers from hell tomorrow. Just a little, Buck promised, showing how little with his thumb and forefinger, right before they had three beers apiece. And Eddie rolled his eyes and agreed, folding like a house of cards the way he always does for Buck. Eddie's not drunk when they call the Uber, but he’s pretty fucking tipsy. Buck might deny it, but he is too.
This is how they end up at the wrong fucking place and don’t even realize it.
After - whatever that was, they head in, single-file and dead silent, and the place is packed, chaotic and lively, the way Hen said it was. You boys are missing out, she texted half an hour ago. Eddie feels like he's sleepwalking, replaying the way he kissed Buck, he kissed Buck, and dying inside a little every time he does. They go to the bar and Buck is telling the bartender all about how he and his partner are going to a bachelor party, and somehow this gets them free shots with whipped cream on top. And now Eddie is definitely drunk. Buck keeps chatting with the bartender. He's feigning normalcy much better than Eddie, who has gone straight to sullenly silent; or maybe it's not feigned. Maybe Eddie's the only one feeling like this, and Buck just thinks it was a weird drunk moment and has completely moved on, and he didn't feel the earth fucking shaking when their lips met the way Eddie did.
Eddie keeps half an eye out for the group. He surreptitiously watches Buck who, nearby, seems to be getting adopted by several drag queens. Buck has that knack for making friends everywhere he goes, a knack that Eddie very much lacks.
“Your boy just came out, huh,” says a drag queen in a ferociously corseted dress.
“Uh, yeah, not that long ago, actually,” Eddie says. “How could you tell?”
“Please, he’s such a baby gay,” she says with affection. “But damn, baby gay or not, he’d have half the hearts in the room if he was single. He probably has ‘em anyway.” She leans closer to ask conspiratorially, “Is he as strong as he looks?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s probably stronger than me. He can literally pick me up and throw me over his shoulder.” He leaves out the when I’m bleeding out from a bullet, also he doesn’t know I remember any of that part.
She whistles appreciatively. “I can see why you’d move quick with a guy like that.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, managing to laugh. It’s great, obviously, that Buck and Tommy are going out. And that Tommy appreciates Buck, really went for it once he felt a spark. Eddie wouldn’t want anything else for him. But Eddie's kissed Buck now. He's felt Buck kiss him back. He felt everything change, and now he can't feel anything except an ache in his throat.
He hears Buck somewhere behind him, talking, getting closer, and closes his eyes. He can't deal with this.
"Come get your boy before the ravenous hordes descend," says the drag queen to someone over Eddie's shoulder. "Him, right?" She pats Eddie on the back with one manicured hand, and he looks at her, confused.
Then Buck responds, “Wait, it's - Tommy? What’re you doing here?” and Eddie feels a hand on his shoulder and that’s all the warning he gets before Buck turns him around and kisses him. Eddie is going to pull back – but he forgets why, and after a moment every bone in Eddie’s body seems to be trying to turn into a liquid. He shouldn’t kiss back, he knows, but Buck puts a hand on his jaw and opens his mouth against Eddie's, and Eddie is lost. Finally Buck draws back, leaving Eddie out of breath with a death grip on the lapels of Buck's jacket.
Buck’s eyes open, and he goes from smiling to totally confused. Eddie's mouth works silently, his head spinning.
“E-Eddie?” Buck says. “I didn’t - “
“Sorry,” Eddie says, too quietly to be heard, and he forces his hands to let go of Buck’s suit jacket and he’s basically running for the door. He keeps going until he can sit his ass down on the curb.
It’s been like an hour since he kissed Buck without knowing he was going to. An hour of trying to forget that moment when Buck kissed back, how he pulled Eddie closer. That was bad. This has Eddie thinking about lying down on the sidewalk and waiting for someone to kick him in the head.
It’s an appealing image. He texts Hen instead.
where are you guys?? I thought we were the late ones lol
She responds a second later, like she was waiting for him to text. Literally what do you mean. You are SO LATE. Where the hell are you right now?
the place you said we were going?
here, let me just share my location
Okay so you’re at a random gay bar. We’re about a block away, get your asses over here!
Eddie opens his maps app and yeah, they’re just at...some random bar. Buck comes out of the bar, finally, all big eyes and contrition, and Eddie really, really can’t deal with whatever he’s about to say, so he just waves his phone at Buck and says, brusquely, “We’re at the wrong place. It’s a hotel a couple blocks away.”
“Shit, I could’ve sworn…” Buck digs out his phone. “Okay, I think Lucy might’ve been joking, actually. Sorry. And, uh, Eddie, I really…”
Buck doesn’t seem to know what to say. Eddie, staring at the cracked sidewalk, can feel Buck looking at him, practically boring holes in him.
Eddie doesn’t wait for Buck to find the words. “We should go, we’re late enough as it is.”
He gets himself off the curb, a process his entire body resists. He’s drunker than he thought he was, and his heart feels bruised and sore, and he just wants to lie on the concrete and be miserable. None of that, however, is enough to override his primal instinct to tamp his feelings the fuck down and keep going. So Eddie gets up, and he looks at Buck just long enough to give him a pinched smile, and he makes it through the painfully silent walk to the hotel. And then they get there and he can get himself another drink and talk to someone who isn’t fucking Buck. Anyone. He just wants – he wants to stop thinking about it.
(Buck, smiling as he kisses Eddie, slow and deep and thorough.)
Eddie gets a drink, some kind of brutally strong and lethally sweet cocktail. It is a bright green that’s nearly luminescent and Eddie loves it deeply.
(Buck pulling back, eyes fluttering open, his smile fading to a look of confusion.)
He sings karaoke with Hen, and with Chim, and even with Buck. He’s drunk enough that he can forget, he can enjoy it, ride the mood of the room and drape his arm around Buck’s shoulders. Give him a smile when it’s done and then get the hell away from him.
(Because Buck wasn’t really kissing Eddie. Not knowingly. He was kissing Tommy.)
Eddie is staggering drunk. He is two, maybe three, or possibly even four sheets to the wind. But he can still dance; he’s a Diaz, after all. Everything feels so good on the dance floor. Everyone’s so happy. Eddie’s happy too, even though his shirt’s ripped and his feet hurt and he’s maybe never been sweatier. He dances.
And then Buck is there. Buck, Eddie’s favorite person, and Eddie ticks up a few notches in happiness that he didn’t know were available. There’s something about Buck that's nagging at him, but whatever, that’s for sober Eddie to deal with. Drunk Eddie would like to push through the crowd on the dance floor to get to Buck. He’d like to wind his arms around Buck’s sweat-damp neck and dance with him and laugh at Buck’s incredible lack of coordination. Buck’s smiling at him, that glowing smile that always, always makes Eddie smile too.
It’s crowded as all hell, and when the crowd shoves into Eddie he lurches into Buck and their lips just, just barely brush, and Eddie barely has a moment to realize that before Buck is gone.
Hen finds Eddie a while later, sitting in some empty, echoing stairwell with his cheek resting against the cool concrete wall. She shakes her head at him.
“Please tell me you didn’t throw up in here.”
“Didn’t,” Eddie says. “Promise. I don’t feel sick.”
“Kay,” Hen says. He tries for a smile, but she’s seen the tears on his face. “Never knew you were a maudlin drunk.”
“I’m fine,” Eddie says, but it comes out horrible, choked, and he’s really crying now. He has to hide behind his hands because it’s not stopping, it’s getting worse. Eddie’s not a maudlin drunk, not usually. It’s just that everything feels so fucked. Fucked like it’s not gonna recover. Fucked like nothing will be the same again.
“Oh sweetie,” Hen says. “You want Buck?”
“No!” Eddie sobs, and her hand touches his shoulder, rubs it a little.
“It’s okay, Eddie, you’re okay,” she says, taking his refusal as something more like no, I’m fine, don’t bother him instead of please no I will lose my shit even worse if I’m near him. “I’ll be back with him in a second.”
So that’s how Eddie gets to end the night; being helped up and led to the elevator and up to the hotel room by Buck. Eddie can’t even tell him to just let Eddie do it, because he’s pretty sure he can’t figure it out right now. He lets himself be led and hangs his head to try and hide that he’s still crying, and he’s pretty sure it doesn’t work. Buck can hear him, after all, the wracking sobs he’s trying to muffle coming out crystal clear, in stereo. Eddie wants a hug, he thinks, maybe more than anything he’s ever wanted.
Buck doesn’t hug him. He brings him to the room and helps him get his shoes off and get into bed fully clothed. He says, “Text if you need anything.” He doesn’t stay. On any other night he would stay, sit next to Eddie and bring him water and make him change into the cutoff sweats he uses as pajamas. He’d ask what was wrong and look at Eddie with worried, loving eyes.
Eddie lies there alone, one foot dangling to the floor to try and stop the spins, and tries to think of anything, anything so that he doesn’t have to go to the stupid wedding tomorrow and see Buck kiss Tommy and feel the ghost of Buck kissing him.
