15k | rated M | read on ao3
Buck tells Eddie he’s in love with him. Eddie pines.
or, five times eddie watches buck leave, and the one time he goes after him
Eddie finds him sitting on the back of one of the 133 ambulances, wrapped in a shock blanket. One of their paramedics is leaning over him, checking his pupils, holding an oxygen mask to his face. Eddie’s legs are carrying him over there before he’s made a decision about it.
“How’s he doing?” Eddie asks the paramedic—Ramirez, he thinks—without taking his eyes off Buck.
“Could be worse,” Ramirez replies. “Smoke inhalation, minor concussion. We’re gonna have to transport him just to be safe.”
Buck lifts the oxygen mask away. “Eddie, I’m fine.”
Ramirez raises his eyebrows at Eddie, shaking his head slightly, but packs up his kit and moves on to the next patient.
Eddie sits beside Buck, the nearness of him settling something inside him. “You really scared us, you know.”
It was as Eddie had stumbled out of the building with May and Bobby that he’d heard it over Bobby’s radio—may day, firefighter down. Two firefighters trapped under debris near fourth floor north window. Firefighter Buckley, come in. Firefighter Han, are you there?
Eddie’s heart had stopped, and he was already turning back toward the building when Bobby’s arm shot out, grasping him by the shoulder.
And a tense moment later: This is Firefighter Han—other Firefighter Han—with the 118. Got eyes on both of them.
“He’s got them, Eddie,” Bobby said. “Chimney’s got them.”
And he had. With Ravi’s help, Chimney had managed to get Buck and Albert out. Eddie hadn’t been able to stop himself from crashing into Buck as they emerged from the smoke, wrapping him up tight in his arms like he’d never let go. He had, eventually, but only because Buck still needed to get checked out.
But now Eddie’s sitting next to Buck, both of them whole and alive, the call center still smoldering across the way.
“Albert okay?” Buck asks, lifting the oxygen mask away again.
“He’s good,” Eddie answers. “Chimney’s good. May and Bobby are good, too. We all made it out.”
Buck closes his eyes, swallows. “For a minute there, I wasn’t sure I would.”
Eddie’s chest clenches. He doesn’t want to think about that. Doesn’t want to go back to those heart-stopping moments when he wasn’t sure he’d ever see Buck again.
Buck is looking down at his own hands, fidgeting with the oxygen mask. Something’s on his mind—Eddie can always tell.
It doesn’t take long. “Eddie,” Buck says. “I need to tell you something.”