Chapter Text
A heavy weight has been building in Eddie’s chest ever since they took that call.
He’s doing his best to ignore it, to keep up a mask of normalcy for the remaining hours left on his shift, but the growing sense of… something uneasy keeps taking him back there.
He may or may not be dodging a specific set of eyes that have been following him for a while now. It’s ridiculous, is all. The concern being sent his way seems silly and unnecessary. There’s no reason for him to be feeling so off-kilter. Clearly, the end of shift exhaustion is starting to catch up to him.
Eddie’s finding it difficult to even muster enough energy to reach out and shut off the damn shower. The water has long since run cold, all evidence of the smoke and ash from the ugly kitchen fire they just returned from already washed away.
Getting dressed is even more of a struggle.
The soreness growing in his limbs makes it difficult to drag himself up to the loft; his legs nearly collapse beneath him before he gets over to the hours-old pot of coffee.
Eddie pours himself a cup and sits.
It tastes like nothing going down.
A dull ache presses against his skull and settles behind his eyes. The bright lights in the station do nothing to ease the pounding in his head.
Did he forget to eat?
Did he get enough sleep last night?
Maybe he’s coming down with something. A cold, perhaps.
Yet, his throat and nose feel fine. Everything else is yanking him into an undercurrent of not-quite dread, but something akin enough that Eddie feels the grip on his emotions begin to slip.
Dragging a hand down his face—almost as if the force of pressure against his skin might be enough to erase the last four hours from memory—Eddie curls forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees, and closes his eyes.
It’s an immediate mistake. The call flashes again in his mind. His eyes shoot open.
Abandoning the mug, he ignores the concerned look coming from the couch as he heads back downstairs and towards the ambulance where Hen is restocking supplies.
Maybe a distraction will help.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The thing is, the call hadn’t even been a bad one.
Both victims ended up being fine. Nobody had been seriously injured. Compared to most emergencies they’ve dealt with, it was all fairly simple.
By the time they had pulled up to the house, dispatch had already informed them that they were dealing with two individuals. The first was the man who called 9-1-1, Eric Fuller, and the second was his husband, Andrew. They were advised to be cautious—Eric had called under severe distress when his partner had passed out and was unresponsive following an unexpected seizure.
Other than the brief information presented, they didn’t have much else to go off of. The dispatcher who connected the 118 to the call couldn’t get a lot out of Eric, other than the fact that his husband had collapsed while they were in the middle of what he said was, well, foreplay, and Eric had no way to reach him.
Apparently, when he said he couldn’t get to his husband, he wasn’t exaggerating.
In a bit of a bind, he had told dispatch, but what Eddie and the rest of the team had walked in on wasn’t exactly what he pictured on their way over.
In hindsight, he really should have known better.
Walking into the bedroom, it all became clear when the extent of their first victim’s predicament came into view.
Eric was quite literally tied up. And not just his wrists handcuffed to the headboard. No, this was so much more.
Hen and Chimney bypassed Eddie—who stood frozen in the doorway—and immediately went to assess the first patient. Andrew, unconscious on the bedroom floor, seemed to be breathing, at least.
Letting the two paramedics do their job, Eddie turned his attention to the other man. His chest tightened when he focused back in on the sight in front of him.
The man was bound, but the intricacy by which he was tied up was like nothing Eddie had seen before. It wasn’t just his wrists, but his arms were secured behind him, attaching him to the frame of the bed by something Eddie couldn’t quite see from where he stood.
His chest and torso were adorned with a deep blue rope, crossing over each other in hexagonal patterns. His ankles were bound to the back of his thighs with the same blue rope, wrapped tightly in circular sections and tied neatly off on the sides.
The ropes were anchored in such a way that he was sitting propped up on the bed, kneeling with his legs spread apart. He wasn’t completely naked, thank god. Even though they’ve dealt with their fair share of sex-gone-wrong emergencies and this would be far from the last one they’ll be called to this month alone, a part of Eddie was relieved that the man was at least wearing underwear.
It wasn’t a rushed job, from the little that Eddie could tell was going on. This was precise work–secure and firm in its structures. Their victim was completely bound. Immobile.
Something far back in his mind—shaped vaguely like a door, cracked open just enough to make Eddie suck in a breath and slam it back shut.
Part of him wanted to back out of the room and beeline it to the engine.
His staring doesn’t go unnoticed. The other man looked up–through his face full of tears and shaking frame and stared right back at Eddie.
Standing frozen on the spot, Eddie could only watch in horror as their victim let out a shuddering sob and tried to sink in on himself, but the binding prevented most of his movement.
Remnants of hazy images flashed across Eddie’s mind, too blurred and distorted to have been a real memory, but rather something else that usually faded from his mind by the time he woke most mornings.
He blinked them away the moment they reappeared, and was left still looking at the man in front of him.
The intensity of his gaze left Eddie feeling unexpectedly exposed. Which was ridiculous.
Eddie wasn’t the one tied up in a room full of strangers.
The feeling of Buck brushing past him was enough to get Eddie to finally move. He ignored the heat crawling up the back of his neck, pushing the images burning in his mind even further back. He was a professional. He had a job to do here.
Which was getting the man calmed down and untied.
As he got closer, Eddie could see just how hard he—Eric —was trembling, fighting against the restraints. His eyes had moved away from Eddie’s and were now firmly locked on his husband, who still wasn’t awake despite the sternal rub Chimney was currently performing. Eddie knew how agonizing it was to watch someone you love hurt, but as his medic brain finally kicked into gear, he assessed that Eric was way too close to dislocating a joint with how much he was struggling against the rope.
Maneuvering through the small bedroom, he glanced at Buck, who just tipped his head to the right. Eddie nodded, carefully walking around one side of the bed while Buck took the other.
Eddie was a damn good firefighter with the ability to make snap decisions in high-intensity situations, but he never minded following Buck’s lead.
Especially when Buck seemed completely unfazed by the sight in front of him.
“Hey, there. Eric, right?” Buck’s voice was low and soft as he carefully approached. If he was uncomfortable, he was doing a much better job than Eddie was at hiding it. “My name’s Buck. We’re here to help you out, okay?”
The only indication that Eric had heard him was the briefest glance away from his husband and over toward Buck, his eyes unfocused and full of tears before turning his attention back to the scene on the floor.
All of a sudden, he tried to lurch forward, but the binds kept him in place, jerking him back into the position he was bound in. Eddie grimaced. The skin peeking out under the rope was already red and raw; it was obvious that he must have been struggling to get out for a while now.
Eddie couldn’t imagine how awful it must have felt.
They desperately needed to get him untied. Any longer in these ropes would cause some serious injuries if they didn’t start to work quickly.
Buck must have noticed, too. He placed himself in the line of sight of their patient and spoke calmly,
“Eric, we’re going to get you untied, but I need you to take some deep breaths for me. Can you do that for me?”
“Why won’t he wake up?” Eric cried out in response as his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. Eddie didn’t have to touch him to know that his pulse must have been racing at a level that was becoming dangerous.
He was panicking—that much was clear. But there was a hazy, faraway look in his eyes that Eddie couldn’t quite place. Like Eric was here physically, but his mind had started to drift somewhere… else.
“Sir, our friends are taking care of your husband right now. He’s in great hands. But my partner and I need to help you right now before you hurt yourself,” Eddie cut in, hoping it was enough to get the man’s attention, but all he did was shudder.
Somehow, his words only seemed to make it worse.
He tried to reach out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but the moment he touched the other man, Eric jolted away and immediately hissed at the pull the rope caused to his shoulder.
Eddie looked over at Buck to catch his eye, but the other man’s attention was completely on Eric. “Eric, hey. I know it looks scary right now. But will you look at me? Can you focus on the sound of my voice?”
I can. The thought popped into his head so fast that Eddie felt dazed from how hard he shoved it back down.
“S-Shouldn’t he be awake by now? Why isn’t he waking up? This… this has never happened to him before. I can’t… can’t lose him. You need to help him. Please.” Eric’s breathing only got faster as he choked on a sob, struggling against the ropes.
Sensing that the man’s distress still wasn’t going away anytime soon—not that Eddie could blame him, this wasn’t a situation anyone wanted to be in—his first responder instincts were screaming to get this man untied before he injured himself any further.
“Buck,” Eddie tried. “He’s gonna pull something. We need to get him out of that now.”
He grabbed his radio to ask Bobby to bring in a pair of shears from the engine when he spotted a pair on the bedside table, next to the phone he assumed Eric used to call 9-1-1. He picked them up and went to hand them to Buck, but before he could, the other man held out a hand to stop him.
Eddie paused in confusion, his eyebrows raised. With every moment that passed, their patient became more at risk for additional injuries. They needed to do something.
He tried again. “If we move quickly, we can probably get him untied in a few minutes. I can tell Bobby to bring in additional sheers from the truc–”
“Eddie, hold on. Just… just give me a second.” Buck turned his attention away from the patient just long enough to give Eddie a look that he had seen enough times to know that it asked, Do you trust me?
Of course he did. Eddie stepped back and waited.
Buck turned back to Eric. His voice took on that soothing edge again. It was gentle, not trying to spook him any further. “Your husband’s getting the help he needs right now, I promise. He’s breathing and that’s a great sign. You were the one who called 9-1-1, right?”
Eric didn’t react. A few moments passed and finally, he gave Buck a shaky nod.
Buck smiled. “That’s good. You did a great job. What you did was really, really brave.”
“I panicked,” Eric tried to argue, his eyes drifting back toward his husband. “I watched him fall down and I panicked and I didn’t know what to do. He-he could have died and I just watched him. I was so stupid, I can’t believe I—”
“Eric, look at me.” Buck’s voice was still gentle, but it took on a firmer edge. He waited until Eric looked back at him and gave him a soft nod of encouragement. “You called 9-1-1 and because of you, he’s getting the help he needs. What’s your husband’s name?”
“Andrew,” came Eric’s shuddering response.
They already knew his name from the dispatcher who connected them to the call, but Eddie could tell what Buck was doing.
He had always been good at calming down distressed patients.
There was something about this situation, though, that seemed different. Eddie couldn’t place it, couldn’t put a name to what was going on and he felt so out of the loop that it made his head spin.
Buck just smiled again, soft and reassuring—completely unaware of Eddie’s internal crisis happening a few feet away from him. “Andrew’s gonna get the care he needs because you were brave enough to call for help. You did a really good job, Eric. When Andrew wakes up, I’m sure he’s going to tell you that, too. And I bet he’ll be very proud of you.”
Eric whined and any fight left in him seemed to deflate. His shoulders, though still tense, stopped struggling against the rope holding him bound.
“There you go,” Buck whispered. “You’re doing so well right now. I know you’re scared, but you’re being so good.”
As Buck continued to whisper soothing words to the patient, the growing ache was twisting deeper in Eddie’s stomach, begging to claw its way out and make itself known. He tampered it down the best he could, but the longer he watched how Buck’s calming words seemed to affect Eric, the bigger that ache grew, until it wrapped itself in the corners of his mind, seeping into his skin and leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.
God, he was a professional. What the hell was wrong with him?
At some point in the last minute, Buck’s hand ended up on Eric’s shoulder, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern into his skin.
Eddie tried not to stare. He bit down on his tongue and didn’t let up until he finally stopped picturing himself reaching over and ripping Buck’s arm away, keeping the limb for himself.
It was such an insane thought to have while working that Eddie’s stomach turned with guilt.
More images flashed across his mind—clearer and more vivid than before. Eddie had to mask the strange and shameful noise building up in the back of his throat with a cough.
He ignored the quick look Buck sent his way.
“Alright,” Buck spoke up, and Eddie remembered they still had a job to do here. “We’re going to get you out, okay? Eddie here is gonna grab you a blanket and then we’ll get you checked over.”
The simple direction was what got Eddie to finally focus again.
Following his lead, Eddie peered around the bedroom for a spare blanket, eventually spotting one on a chest at the end of the bed. He grabbed it and set it on the bed next to him. It was a lot softer than what they had in the engine. Eric would probably appreciate the comfort.
Eddie had no issue letting that object be the source of the other man’s comfort instead of Buck’s hand.
Getting him out of the rope turned out to be more of a one-man job, so Eddie stood back and watched. Buck moved quickly but methodically, using the shears to cut through the binding rope, pausing only to move on to the next section. Eddie finally stepped in to help once all the ties were cut, helping to unravel the loose rope and toss it aside.
Eric’s skin was inflamed, rubbed raw from how much he had been moving, but when Buck asked him in that same gentle but firm tone to flex his shoulders, then arms and legs, he seemed to be able to move without any substantial injury.
He was lucky to have not dislocated anything.
Buck held out his hand without a word and Eddie passed over the blanket, watching closely, something simmering low in his gut as Buck draped it over Eric’s body. It was careful and gentle like he always was with his patients, but something was different in the tone Buck spoke to him, unusual how Eric’s eyes lit up a little more every time Buck told him how well he was responding.
The back of Eddie’s neck was burning hot by the end of it. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he was sure to ache tomorrow with how hard he was clenching his jaw.
“How are you feeling?” Buck asked carefully, keeping watch on Eric while his eyes quickly darted over to his husband, who was nearly prepped and ready to be loaded into the ambulance.
“Better,” Eric answered. “Sore, but nothing I’m not already used to.” He said it so casually, making Buck laugh softly.
“Good. That’s good. I still think you should get checked out at the hospital. I’m sure nobody will mind letting you ride in the ambulance with your husband.”
Eddie watched him confirm with Hen and Chimney, who both just nodded before wheeling Andrew out of the room.
“Really? Can I?” Eric perked up at that as he attempted to stand on shaky legs. “I need to get–I should get dressed.”
Eric scrambled to grab a shirt and pants from the floor. Once he was properly clothed, Buck and Eddie helped him out of the house and toward the ambulance. He was still unsteady on his feet, and once he was up and into the vehicle, Eddie heard a quiet cry of relief when Eric was reunited with his husband.
Eddie was grateful knowing they’d both be okay.
The uglier part of his brain was rejoicing in the fact that Buck’s hands were now to himself.
He turned to the other man and nodded his head toward the engine. “Ready?”
Eddie tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice. He was just ready to get back to the station. Plenty of people needed their help and Eddie took his job seriously. That was all.
Instead, Buck hesitated. “Actually, I think I’m going to ride with them to the hospital. Just to make sure Eric’s gonna be okay on the way there. I’ll see you back at the station?”
“You don’t think the ambulance will be too crowded? I think Hen and Chim got it,” he muttered, the anticipation of getting back vanished and left a horrible taste in his mouth.
“Oh, uh. I think it should be fine? But I should probably go too, just in case. It’s hard to explain right now, but I want to make sure he doesn’t start to feel bad again before his husband wakes up,” Buck rushed out an explanation, and turned back to look at the ambulance, probably to make sure it didn’t leave without him.
Eddie nodded—the bitterness on his tongue had turned sour. “Sure,” he muttered and watched as Buck hopped into the back of the ambulance.
As he stood there, his mind still spinning and trying to catch up to whatever had just happened, he couldn’t make sense of the unfamiliar itch that prickled underneath his skin.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Stocking the ambulance is a blur.
Eddie’s grateful Hen is patient with him because, right now, he’s only managing to slow her down—asking her to check their gauze supply drawers for what is probably the seventh time in the last hour. He quickly marks off the box on the list and moves on after she threatens to kick him out and back upstairs.
If Eddie had been doing inventory with Buck, he would have handed the clipboard over the moment Buck’s hand reached for it and let him run through their normal routine of having Eddie call out check for each item until Buck was satisfied.
But ever since Buck had gotten back from the hospital—and Eddie was left to stew alone in his guilt for how insane his mind had gone on the call—he’s not-so-subtly avoiding being around him any longer than necessary.
The thing is, he can’t explain why.
The fogginess in his brain, the shame bubbling up in his throat, the itch under his skin he refuses to acknowledge—it’s all too much, and every time he sees Buck, it’s harder to shove it all down.
Buck’s obviously picked up on the fact that Eddie is avoiding him. If Bobby hadn’t asked him to help with breakfast, Eddie is certain that Buck would have confronted him by now.
He thinks about avoiding the loft for the rest of the shift, but when Bobby calls for everyone to eat, Hen pries the clipboard—Buck’s clipboard—out of his hands. She nudges him toward the stairs, saying she’ll finish the rest of the inventory alone after they eat. Eddie doesn’t have an excuse ready fast enough to not follow her.
His body doesn’t recognize its own hunger, even when the plate of food is set in front of him—bacon, eggs, toast, potatoes. The coffee mug he abandoned earlier is replaced with a fresh cup, and when he reluctantly looks up, it’s Buck who’s sitting across from him, pushing the mug toward him.
Eddie sends him a quick smile. It’s the most he can manage without his embarrassment bubbling over. He can feel how Buck is trying to meet his eyes, but Eddie stares to the side instead, watching Chimney shove a ridiculous amount of toast piled high with eggs and potatoes into his mouth. He grimaces and hears Hen gag next to him.
“Could you at least pretend to have some manners?” she complains with a shake of her head.
“Manners are for people who have time to eat,” Chimney argues in between bites, “Which we don’t have. I’m not missing out on another meal this shift because someone forgot to turn their oven off.”
“You haven’t missed out on a single meal today,” Hen says slowly. “You’re just mad because Buck didn’t finish those brownies yet.”
Chimney rolls his eyes and shoves another bite into his mouth, a piece of egg falling out as he rants, “Yes, because who in their right mind bakes brownies for a hundred hours? Back me up here, Cap.”
Bobby just shrugs. “It was Buck’s idea. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”
“Thank you,” Buck huffs out. “And they’re not baking for a hundred hours,” he explains, exasperated because even through the fuzziness of his mind, Eddie remembers Buck explaining this to Chimney in the engine on the way to a call earlier. “The batter has to sit in the fridge for two more days and then I bake them.”
Chimney’s eyes light up.
“And then they rest for another 24 hours,” Buck adds on.
He immediately deflates. “That’s ridiculous. What’s wrong with normal brownies?”
“Trying out a new recipe,” Buck says plainly, but if Eddie has to guess, there’s likely an amused glint in his eye at how worked-up Chimney is getting over the whole thing.
Meanwhile, Eddie hasn’t even touched any of the food in front of him. He would normally be excited for Bobby and Buck’s breakfast, but his stomach is sending no signs of wanting to eat anything.
He can’t even recall the last time he ate. Somewhere between hours 8 and 11, maybe. Before The Call, he thinks.
Eddie should be starving by now, but it’s like his body forgot to send the hunger signals to his brain. He tries to shove a few bits of toast into his mouth despite his stomach currently rolling at the thought of eating. He’s successful, but he nearly chokes on his sip of coffee a second later when he feels Buck’s leg nudge his own from under the table.
“You okay?” Buck asks and Eddie doesn’t have to guess to know he’s asking him.
A spasm of guilt hits him when he pulls his leg away and doesn’t look at Buck. He tries to shove a few more bites into his mouth and ignores the wave of nausea. The faster he eats, the faster he can get back downstairs to finish inventory–despite Hen’s protest of finishing alone.
“Fine,” he mumbles out. He can feel how Buck is trying to meet his eyes, but there’s a sinking feeling in his chest telling him that if Eddie looks at him for a moment too long, he’ll figure out everything.
The same everything that Eddie can’t even begin to explain, let alone understand, but that Buck somehow always knows.
“Do you want me to make you something else?” Buck offers and Eddie gives a sharp shake of his head. When Buck’s foot nudges his leg again, Eddie abruptly scrambles back, his chair scraping against the floor and causing the team to pause their own conversation that Eddie wasn’t even aware was going on and stare at him.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I think I’m going to go rest for a bit,” he adds in hopes that it eases some of the concern written across their faces. If he had any more energy left, he would assure them that he really was fine, but the last bits of it barely allow him to grab his barely-touched plate and lukewarm coffee to dump out before heading down the stairs.
There’s only an hour and a half left on their shift and Eddie resigns himself to the bunk room to sleep the rest of it off.
Had he been thinking straight, Eddie would have guessed the moment he’s alone would also be the moment Buck chooses to finally strike.
He barely has enough time to sit on his usual bunk and lean down to begin untying his boots before the door swings open.
“Eddie,” Buck says, his chest heaving like he was out of breath. “What’s going on?”
He sighs, yanking on his laces again and biting back a curse when the knot tightens. “I’m fine, Buck.”
No, I’m not.
“No, you’re not.” Buck takes a seat on the bunk connected to Eddie’s, where Buck usually sleeps. “What’s wrong?”
Curse him and his ability to read Eddie like an open book.
He gives up and kicks his boots the rest of the way off. “I don’t know,” Eddie says carefully. “I think I’m just exhausted, or maybe I’m getting sick. It’s been a long day.”
“Do you want to talk about it? If something is bothering you–”
“I just want to sleep,” Eddie cuts him off, his voice sharper than he meant for it to be. He’ll feel bad about it later, but as for right now, he can barely form words for an apology.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see how Buck hesitates before nodding. Eddie can tell that he doesn’t believe him. Not that he even believes himself.
“Okay,” Buck says quietly. “Then I’ll sleep, too.”
Like it’s the obvious conclusion.
Before Eddie can protest, Buck kicks off his own boots and settles into his bunk, burrowing his head in his pillow.
“You don’t have to stay in here,” Eddie whispers but lays down on his bed anyway, head adjacent to Buck’s.
“Shh,” Buck hushes him, his voice taking on a gentle teasing edge. “I’m trying to nap, Eddie. Just close your eyes. I’ll wake you up when our shift’s over.”
He huffs out a pathetic attempt at a laugh. Yeah, right. Unless Buck had set an alarm, Eddie knows that entrusting him to wake them up on time is a snowball’s chance in hell.
But, being this close to Buck—feeling the ends of his loose curls brush against his shoulder as he turns over in his bunk—calms the jitters under his skin long enough that Eddie can feel the pull of sleep behind his eyelids.
“Night,” he mumbles low enough for only Buck to hear—a force of habit, even though they’re the only two currently in the room.
Buck lets out a fake snore in response.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
When he wakes up an hour later, he doesn’t feel any more rested than he did before falling asleep, but the ache in his head has subsided enough that it no longer hurts to keep his eyes open.
As he expected, Buck is still fast asleep, snoring against the pillow.
Cute, Eddie thinks.
The thought would have sent him into a spiral a couple of months ago, but Eddie’s been out of the closet just long enough that it doesn’t freak him out knowing he finds his best friend attractive.
Well. The attraction doesn’t scare him.
The physical aspect of it all—knowing that Buck is ridiculously hot—is an acceptable feeling that Eddie allows himself to experience. He’s gay and Buck is a gorgeous man. Eddie has no issue wrapping his head around those facts anymore.
But beneath it, there’s a larger, more intense longing that creeps underneath Eddie’s skin, snaking around his spine, wrapping itself around the chambers of his heart, and aches.
He tries not to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge its existence in fear it’ll only grow until Eddie’s body cannot physically contain it anymore and he bursts.
Something about today only makes the ache so much worse.
He thinks of what he knows about desire—that fulfilling every last wish and want is a selfish disservice to those around him.
That not every craving is meant to be satisfied.
Some of them just have to be.
Eddie can’t be greedy.
He knows the best path to take is to shove how he feels about Buck far enough down until one day it might bury itself too deep to not threaten to break out at a moment’s notice.
Squinting down at his watch, he sees there are less than twenty minutes left until they’re able to leave, so Eddie sighs and reaches over to gently shake Buck awake.
“Hmph?” Buck’s answer comes in the form of a muffled grumble against his pillow.
“Up. It’s time to go home.”
“Not,” Buck argues and groans when Eddie shakes him again, reaching his hand out to bat Eddie’s away. “Alarm didn’t go—” a sudden shrill blares out from under Buck’s pillow, “—off.”
Amused by how Buck actually did remember to set an alarm, Eddie smiles to himself as he reaches down to slip his boots back on. Buck fumbles to turn off the ringing and sits up on his bunk, curls a floppy mess at the top of his head.
They sit there for a few minutes in silence, lacing their shoes back up as their shoulders knock together.
“C’mon, ready to go?” Buck leans over and squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb barely brushing against his collarbone before Eddie’s there again, the memories of earlier flashing in his mind. He’s up and nearly tripping over his own feet to get to the door before he even realizes what’s happening.
There’s concern in Buck’s voice. “Eddie, hold on. What’s—”
“We should get changed before the locker room gets too crowded.” B-shift would be arriving any moment, and he doesn’t want to have to dodge a dozen or so bodies while trying to get back in his civvies and packed up.
Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
He’s out the door and heading to the locker room, Buck hot on his heels.
“Eddie,” he hisses from behind. “Seriously, will you just stop and talk to me for a second?”
It sends a pang of guilt down his spine to ignore him, but Eddie slips into the locker room without a glance back. It’s crowded already—as to be expected, so Buck doesn’t have another chance to corner him until they’re both in the parking lot.
He can sense Buck behind him, his heavy footsteps trailing after Eddie, and he realizes that the other man has no intentions of letting him leave before getting answers about his weird behavior.
“Will you please talk to me? I know something is going on. Did I—Did I do something wrong?”
Eddie stops in front of their vehicles. They’re parked next to each other because of course they are. It’s what they do.
“What?” Eddie turns around and despite the exhaustion seeping into his bones and the itch under his skin back in full force, Eddie can’t help but shake his head, staring down at the crooked collar on Buck’s shirt. “No, of course not.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
Caught, Eddie hesitantly raises his eyes to get his first proper look at Buck since they got back from that call. He looks worried and Eddie feels stupid for making him concerned in the first place.
“I just don’t feel well. It’s nothing you did. This shift was a lot, you know? I-I think I just need to sleep it off.” The words feel heavy on his tongue.
Buck doesn’t seem like he’s buying anything Eddie is saying.
He stares at Eddie, the confusion morphed on his face twists and settles into something that has Eddie’s heart rate spiking.
He feels too exposed.
“It was the call earlier, wasn’t it? With Eric and his husband? Did it—did I make you uncomfortable?”
The back of his neck heats up at the question. No, Eddie’s not uncomfortable.
But ever since the call, Eddie’s brain and body can’t stop spinning. It’s like he’s been placed off his center of balance and can’t find it again no matter how much he tries.
He keeps shoving everything threatening to breach through. If he lets that door open another inch—lets himself even consider why this particular call has brought up all of these twisted desires and longings—then Eddie’s terrified he will never be able to lock it again.
“No,” Eddie eventually gets out. “Buck, no. You didn’t make me uncomfortable. You helped that guy out and it was great,” he laughs, nervously running a hand over his face. “I just feel like shit. It started before I even got here this morning. I’m probably getting whatever was going around last week.”
That’s right. A few of their guys were out with colds and one with the flu.
It’s a good excuse, he thinks.
Buck’s chewing on his bottom lip. It kills Eddie to outright lie to him like this, but what is he even supposed to say?
Eddie himself doesn’t even fully understand everything that’s going on with him. How would Buck help him?
How is that his job?
Eddie is not Buck’s problem to solve. He’s not Buck’s mess to clean up. He’s not Er—
He’s not.
“At least let me take you home and make you breakfast,” Buck offers, and Eddie wants to nod, to accept his help.
Yes, please, he wants to say. I don’t want to drive home, he wants to whine. I don’t want to deal with the stupid dishes that have been piling up for a week, he wants to complain. I don’t want to go back to an empty house! he wants to yell.
Instead, Eddie just shakes his head.
“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to get you sick. Honestly, I’m probably just gonna go home and pass out.”
Buck pushes the strap of his bag further up his shoulder. “If you’re sure.”
“I am,” Eddie lies.
Sighing, Buck nods. “Just uh, text me? If you start to feel worse or anything. I mean it. I really don’t mind coming over and making you something. Or just keeping you company.”
“Of course. Thanks, Buck.” The twisting in his chest grows tenfold.
He waits until Buck gets into his jeep before Eddie looks down at the keys in his hand and grimaces.
He goes home alone.