Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's been a long couple of shifts for the 118: a pile up on the freeway, with enough people involved it that had been a nightmare to get everyone out, to treat them, and then there had been inevitable losses.

It had been just the start: after that, a wild fire, a broken dam that flooded an entire neighborhood.

They needed a distraction, they needed to let loose.

So here they are, at a nightclub, crowding into a booth, waiting for the booze to light up the mood.

Eddie is wearing his sluttiest attire: black v-neck shirt and skin tight jeans to hug his ass and thighs, already drawing interested glances as he walks side by side with Buck.

Buck's a vision in and on itself: see through green fabric that it's far too generous to call it a shirt, dark Korean pants and espadrillas. Wild curls and two days stubble.

They look so good together, Eddie thinks, matching each other, catching everyone's eyes as they wonder if they're together.

Then comes Tommy, Buck's boyfriend.

He's so boring, even his clothes are unremarkable, surrounded by Karen's floral dress, Hen's bold red suit, Ravi's causal chic fit and Chim's total blue look.

Eddie will never get what Buck sees in him. Maybe he simply enjoys doing charity.

They target one of the empty booths, close enough to the floor so that they could join in the frantically dancing crowd, but also not too far from the bar, as they plan to get well and thoroughly wasted.

“No one is leaving standing straight” was all Hen had to say about it, as Ravi proposed a wild night.

Eddie feels inclined to get started on it.

“Get comfortable guys, I'm going to start the tab and get the drinks flowing.”

He saunters off, shooting a glance behind his back to check if Buck is looking at him: he wants his eyes on himself, only and always on himself. But Buck is turned to talk with his boyfriend, who's doing an awful job at paying him attention. Buck looks so beautiful, lights reflecting off his face, glinting with the make-up he put on, looking pretty and dolled up, while the man he's trying to seduce behaves like it's a chore to listen, to look and kiss —

Eddie hatches a plan, leaning on the counter-top.

“What can I do for you, handsome?"

The barista shoots him a wink and a grin, and Eddie simmers with jealousy at the thought that Tommy's hands are resting on Buck's knees, where only Eddie's palm belongs, his hand print seeped into the pale skin.

“Start a tab, will you? We have a great night coming.”

Alcohol starts flowing, alongside with laughter and banter.

The conversation scatters, people moving in and out of the group, as they each venture out for a dance or something more.

Sometimes they bring other people, the more the merrier as the night shifts to the frantic beat of the music.

There's a pulsing energy that palpitates, making movements jittery and fast paced, bodies push together as sweat damps glinting skin in the neon lights.

It's one of those nights.

Ravi had been the one suggesting a night out, Hen had been the one wanting a wild night.

She reclines against the sofa, one arm curled around her wife's waist as they kiss lazily. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the way their group is scattering and mingling with strangers, each looking for a fun time.

Buck is sandwiched between Eddie and Tommy, the former's glued to his side, head turned to him as he rants, eyes raking him with a want that makes Hen reconsider her own desire.

Her hand has long since trailed the familiar path to her love's awaiting heath, fingers drawing lazy circles on wet silky skin. Karen's moans are soft little sounds urging her on, and Hen would devote her life to her pleasure but her mind is —

“Are you seeing them?”

Karen, beautiful, smart, gossipy Karen, is smirking knowingly as she leans in closer to smack a kiss on her cheek, sweet breath fanning over the side of Hen's neck, the stain of lipstick a left over of her passion.

“I am. Do you think he knows?”

“Which one?”

“The husky dog”

Karen's snicker turns into a breathless whimper, before she shuffles even closer to her wife's body, Hen's other hand palming distractedly at her breast with the pretense of adjusting the neckline.

“No he doesn't. But he sure seems happy to be the center of attention.”

And he is: Buck is glowing under the ever-changing neon lights, hands gesturing as he alternates between Tommy's and Eddie's focus. But where Eddie's eyes turn gentle and tender, Tommy's always bear the same cold indifference, like he would love to be somewhere else, or at least with someone else.

“Do you think he'll figure it out? I don't like the way he's being stranded along.”

“I don't know. But someone else might.”

Karen makes a questioning sound, eyes searching her woman's, as Hen points to Eddie with her head.

Eddie, whose eyes glare daggers at Tommy every time Buck turns his back on him to try and involve his boyfriend. Tommy, whose hand is curled possessively on Buck knee.

“He looks pissed.”

“He is. Mad with jealousy if I had to guess.”

They both giggle, gasping in unison as Eddie keeps staring right into Tommy's eyes, left hand grabbing at Buck's thigh, so dangerously close to —

“He's insane.”

Ravi jumps into the conversation, sitting next to Hen and Karen.

“What —”

“Do you think he's trying to break them up?”

“Ravi, we were having a moment —”

“More like an hour. Anyway, do you want to bet on it?”

“Bet? What bet?”

Chimney's attention is suddenly on them, more than ready to join the gossiping.

“Done with the phone?” Ravi shoots him an unimpressed glare, and Chimney sighs, hands raised in defeat.

“I'm sorry. It's the first time going out since Dan's birth and — I feel kind of bad that Maddie can't be here too. She deserves a break.”

"It's okay. We were watching the Buckley/Diaz mating ritual in real time.”

“Again?”

Three heads nods in sync, Hen thinks it's hilarious, the way no one is even the tiniest bit surprised those two are flirting in front of Buck's literal boyfriend.

“It's not like Tommy doesn't deserve it.”

“Why?”

Ravi seems genuinely taken aback by it, but no one seems inclined to dive into the million and one reasons why Tommy deserves the worst, and Buck deserves to be freed by him.

Definitely not Hen, at least.

Drinks keep coming, the music shifts to powerful bass and dissonant electronic notes, encouraging the people on the dance floor to increase the tempo, bodies bumping and sliding along with the tune.

The first one to join the dance floor it's Ravi, young and full of life, out to get the attention of a couple who's been eyeing him for a while.

The rest stays seated, trading jokes and stories, watching the crowd shift and move hypnotically, like a snake coiling before a strike.

Ravi is letting loose on the dance floor, batting his eyes at the girl and her boyfriend, wondering which one of them is going to make the first move.

She does, women always being braver than their male counterpart, approaching him with a shy smile and the seductive sway of her hips.

He joins her soon after, crowding into Ravi's space from behind, twin pair of hands roaming his body, pulling him in closer, as if he ever had a mind to step away.

He throws his head back against the other guy's shoulder and it's then that he sees them.

Buck and Eddie are no longer sitting at their spot, or better, Eddie is no longer sitting at his spot: he's plastered himself against the blondes chest, lounging comfortably, one hand splayed on his chest as the other coils lazily around the taurine neck.

Here they are again: Eddie with his freakish possessiveness, and Buck taking it in stride as if that's normal platonic bestie behavior.

Sick in the head, the both of them, if you ask Ravi.

He watches them as they bump their shoulders on the way to the bar, as if neither of them can walk strai— scratch that, it makes sense, actually. There's nothing straight about them. Ever

This time though? This time they took it as a challenge and pushed it even further into the absolutely no straight explanation nor platonic one territory, as Ravi almost chokes on nothing, earning a weirded out side glance to the man fondling him, while he witnesses Eddie crowding Buck's space and then slithering his tongue inside the other's mouth.

He blinks, wondering if he's mistaken, if he by some chance ended up mixing up people, as if he wouldn't recognize Buck's curls and Eddie's mustache anywhere.

So he distractedly starts to inch closer, pulling the couple along with him, as he sets on examining the situation a little better, wondering if finally he'll be able to collect on the bet.

They part, going back to what feels like friendly chat and he deflates.

Oh, is one of those nights, huh?

Ravi turns to look at their table, at Tommy's wide eyes and the way he whips his head back to stare at the unbothered group.

Ah, he didn't know.

Buck and Eddie, like a two headed entity, make their way back to the group, trailing with drinks in hand, as they keep on talking.

The mood at the table has shifted, and so has the crowd: there's something frantic, but also tense, brimming with anticipation.

Ravi has returned with the couple in tow, taking the furthest couch for them as he keeps chatting them up.

Tommy is glued to his spot, eyes dark and inquiring as he follows each and every step of his boyfriend.

Nobody brings it up but they all think the same thought: this is normal for them, and he didn't know.

Buck's laughing now, bright and easy, and it's thanks to Eddie.

He wanted to dance despite being born with two left feet, too long limbs and very little grace. Tommy, boring, awful boyfriend that he is, refused him.

The thing about Buck, Karen thinks, it's that he doesn't advocate for himself. He sits there, compliant and docile, feeling somewhat at fault even when it's his partner's lack of effort that caused him hurt.

Eddie, though… he is a different cookie.

He watched in real-time his best friend's— soulmate's? — smile dim into a polite little upward curve that barely dissimulated how fucking sad Buck felt at having his request for a dance denied by Tommy, and decided he had to do something about it.

Doing something, turns out, means dragging him along on the dance floor, one arm gently pushed against Buck's lower back, guiding, steading, claiming.

She had seen the kiss, they all did, not that it was a one time thing. Tommy had bristled then, and they'd all shrugged. “They always do that man, it's not romantic.” they said. Like liars. But were they truly lying when neither Buck nor Eddie seemed to draw the line between platonic and romantic?

There was never any embarrassment when it happened, simply because it didn't register to them as something more.

So they kissed, and moved on.

Tonight is different though, and maybe, she thinks, her wife is right. Eddie seems to be testing the boundaries more than usual, clawing at the enclosure of the cage labeled friendship, as he leads the way to the dance floor, steers Buck so that they're facing each other, and then starts to dance like he gets payed for it and bills are due soon.

She almost laughs, silently elbowing Hen, who's watching them just as intently.

Ravi is, too, under the pretense of a lost in thought stare, new friends busying themselves with him.

Chimney is still texting. Whatever.

And then there's Tommy.

Tommy, whose face is finally emoting, and it's screaming confusion with each passing second, as Eddie rolls and sways his hips against his boyfriend's.

“They definitely needed this.”

Hen is donning The Smile, and Karen is more than ready to see where this is going.

“Which would be?”

God, the man is so —

“Fun. They needed to have fun. Buck especially. It's been a tough year.”

She doesn't say anything else, but Karen knows her enough to guess she's mostly referring their relationship. Oh, to be considered worse than a lightning strike.

“I guess… Clubs are not really my thing, I don't see the appeal.”

Karen has to bite her tongue before she starts arguing that nothing really seems to appeal Tommy, simply because a cardboard would have more personality than him.

“No shit.”

Ravi definitely had too much to drink, just like the two fools dryhumping on the dance floor under the pretense of “platonic'“ or whatever. Karen really wished she were young enough to be as unhinged as the brunette and tell them to just get their shit together.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tommy is staring Ravi down, who only shrugs and smirks, and Chimney is left with the task of defusing the situation.

Which is the contrary of what's happening on the dance floor, as Eddie is now flush against Buck, front turned to the table with a cheshire cat smile, as Buck's face is buried into his neck, bodies thrusting in sync with the beat.

At least the boys are having fun.

“That we are old, Tommy. At least, compared to Ravi.”

“And Buck.”

Ravi is definitely set on winning the bet, it seems. Good for him?

“He's not that young. He just loves to pretend he is.”

Oh, he definitely is the worst.

Karen gasp, than giggles --it's the liquor, she swears — at the downright nasty looks Tommy has just earned from everyone at the table.

“What? You know I'm right.”

Awful take. and still doubling down. An… interesting choice.

Well, at least Buck couldn't care less about this sorry excuse of a boyfriend, not when he's dancing and doing other stuff with someone who gets him and loves him as he is.

Tommy can have his boring little tidy world, Buck's chaotic loving mess is all for Eddie anyway.

They sit back down, breathless clothes rumpled and wet with sweat. Mostly.

Tommy's hands stay on his side, slightly balled up, as Buck reclaims his spot in the middle of him and Eddie, physical proximity not making up for the emotional distance.

The sheer attunement between them, is baffling. One reaches for the drink, the other does too, at the same time.

One starts a sentence, the other finishes it.

One looks at the other, and the other is already looking.

They are a pair, a couple, a dyad.

Tommy is the spare.

Mrs. Han: How is it going?

Howlie: Everything's fine, my love. It's just miserable, being the sober friend. And to be far away from my beautiful wife

Mrs. Han: … I meant the boys. How is it going?

Howlie: Ah. Hard to say. They did their thing and now they are… dancing? I don't know if that's dancing or public indecency anymore.

Mrs. Han: Again??? They kissed again???

Howlie: Trust me, you don't want a report on what your brother's been doing…

Mrs. Han: Probably not. But keep me posted. You know if they…

Howlie: figure it out? I wouldn't hold my breath.

Mrs. Han: A break up would be fine enough for now.

Howlie: Well, I don't think your brother is trying. Eddie however… Oh, and Ravi.

Mrs. Han: Ravi?

Howlie: Yeah… It's going to be a looooong night.

Chimney shuts off the screen of his phone before resting it down, and rubs at his eyes, far too sober to deal with the increasing slurring and giggling from his friends.

Buck is back to being all lovey dovey with his boyfriend, kissing him even as the action grants a recoil from Tommy. Mostly because he'd been making out with Eddie for the past ten minutes, everyone acting like this is fine and normal.

Chimney feels like a spectator in what's going to be an epic crash out as soon as everyone's body will have been cleansed from the alcohol.

For now, though, he enjoys the spectacle of Tommy squirming in his seat as he battles the need to deal with his boyfriend's affection, so not to scare him off into the waiting body of his other suitor, and said suitor 's more than open arms.

It doesn't last long.

Tommy is one second away from causing a scene, back stiff as he glares at an ecstatic Eddie, whose arm is curled possessively behind Buck's shoulders.

Chimney wonders if he'll end up calling 9-1-1 by the end of the night.

Buck is, inadvertently, the one who breakes the stall, as he gets up, stumbling on his too long legs like a newborn giraffe, mumbling something that resembles “toilet”.

It should be the end of it, but it isn't: Eddie is fresh on his trail, as he pretends to steady him on their way to the white door at the far corner of the club. Tommy is still sitting, simmering, and Chimney almost feels bad for him.

Almost.

“Are they always like this? Really?”

“Yeah. It's pretty normal for them.”

“For them. So at least we agree it's not normal for anyone taken to be slobbering over your bestfriend.”

Well… Chimney might have done that when he was still just friends with Maddie, but it was clear even then where that relationship was going, and he was sure of the fact he wanted more… Scared to act on those feelings? Sure. Oblivious of the way she made him feel all mushy and warm inside? Yeah, not really.

But Buck and Eddie… They are Buck&Eddie first, and Buck/Eddie second, so maybe that's the difference. That's why they don't know.

Skirting along the edges of romantic entanglement as they go on with their life, comfortable with just a taste…

What's a kiss, after all? Is it really that big of a deal, for them? Is it a bigger betrayal than being each other emergency contact? Than being there after the fallout of whatever huge happening in the other's life? Is it worse than claiming the other's place as home?

Chimney doesn't think so, but apparently Tommy does.

“Listen man, you knew what you were getting into when you settled for Buck —”

Tommy tries to argue, Chimney shushes him because, what the hell dude, he's trying to be helpful even though he doesn't deserve it one tiny bit.

“And yes, I know you settled. Buck might be unaware and far to eager to throw himself at the first person showing a hint of interest his way. But I saw the way you went after Eddie first. It's kind of ironic how that decision is now coming to bite back at you.”

“Ironic? You think it's fun being here, in a place I don't want to be, just so that Evan could maybe stop complaining about the fact Eddie would say yes; just to watch my boyfriend making out with said man, and all his friends shrugging because it's normal for them? Am I supposed to just let it happen?”

“Well you could fight for him.”

Chimney shoots Ravi, who's not drunk but more than halfway there, a withering look, intimately praying he'll get the idea of keeping his mouth shut through a telepathic bond or whatever it was in Star Gate.

Ravi, of course, doesn't get the message.

“Fight for him? What is this, the Middle Age?”

“I didn't mean fight as in a match, I meant it as prove you care more than Eddie does. But I guess the first option would be easier.”

Tommy's back is so rigid it could be a lamp-post.

“Why do you care so much?”

“I don't. I just think if I were Buck I would have dumped you ages ago for the hotter, funnier, more caring best friend. You're lucky he's a bit dense sometimes.”

Tommy snorts, a mean sound Chimney is well acquainted with from the time they both served at the 118.

He doesn't miss it.

“Eddie might be all those things, but at the end of the night Evan will come home with me. So maybe you're wrong. After all you're just a kid.”

Ravi doesn't take the bait, just grins and shrugs, eyes trained on the white door.

“I wouldn't hold my breath, old man.”

Chimney looks at him, then at Tommy, and then at the white door and he suddenly gets why Ravi has that shit eating grin on his face, while Tommy's blood has drained from his own.

Buck and Eddie are walking back to their booth, both staggering lightly. It's not what gets his attention, though, or what makes him snap a picture as fast as he can to send it to Maddie.

Maybe he's reading to much into it, maybe he is —

Mrs. Han: OMG, they did it???

Howlie: So you agree they look…

Mrs. Han: fucked out?

Howlie: MADDIE! Disheveled, they look disheveled.

Mrs. Han: Tell me everything.

Howlie: I don't know anything, love.

Mrs Han: Is Tommy okay? OMG, I can't believe they figured it out 🤭

His phone pings again, but Chimney wants to see this happening in real time.

Buck looks… Well he looks like a man looks after having had the time of his life: flushed, smiling, still buttoning up his pants, as his fingers keep missing their target, sloppy with alcohol and endorphins.

Eddie doesn't look any less obscene, in fact he's wiping at something on the corner of his mouth and — Chimney is going to need bleach for his eyes and brain, which is a lot coming from someone who's witnessed varying levels of disembowelment.

He turns to watch Tommy's reaction as Buck plops back down on the couch, legs spread and head lolled back, Eddie loyally at his side, hand resting on his thigh —

“I'm leaving.”

Tommy's statement cuts through the atmosphere abruptly, Hen and Karen just now returning from the dance floor. His best friend shoots him a wondering stare and he just mouths later because there's no way he's missing the soap operas grand finale.

“What? Al- Already?”

Buck slurring has gotten worse, and Chimney briefly wonders how they'll get a 6’2 drunk off his feet colossus into a Uber.

“Yeah. I leave you with Eddie. you two seemed to be having a lot of fun.”

The words drip with venom, but Buck doesn't register it, maybe too far gone. Or maybe not bothering with reading between the lines, now that he has Eddie's unfaltering attention on him.

“Good night Tommy, I'll take care of him. Promise.”

Eddie, Chimney realizes, is not even remotely as intoxicated as the blond. His eyes are sharp, just like his smirk.

He pulls out his phone, because this is huge, and his wife won't let him sleep in their bed if he doesn't tell her right now

Howlie: I think it's done.

Dots appear and disappear, as Maddie types and deletes.

Mrs. Han: WHAT THE FUCK???? REALLY???

And, honestly? Chimney can't blame her for the enthusiasm, not when he's thought the exact same thing after years of watching those two idiots be in love and do nothing about it.

Howlie: Yup. Tommy said he's leaving, and Eddie… I think he knows.

Mrs. Han: 👀

Howlie: He said I'll take care of him with the most twisted smile I've ever seen.

Howlie: he knows, Maddie. HE KNOWS!!!

Mrs. Han: …

Mrs. Han: Buck?

Buck is sitting on the couch, brows furrowed as if he doesn't understand why his boyfriend would be upset by a little make out session plus quickie in a club's toilets with his best friend, but all in all he seems happy enough to let Eddie coo at him as a hand buries itself into unruly curls.

Howlie: He doesn't. He's hopeless.

Mrs. Han: He's always been a little dumb, it's part of his charm.

Mrs. Han: At least one of them knows. Yay?

Howlie: Yay

Howlie: Just please, don't ever send me out on recon again. I suck at it.

Mrs. Han: How will I stay in the loop? You must, Howie.

Howlie: … Ravi would make a decent enough spy

Mrs. Han: Oh, I know. He sent me the pic of Tommy's reaction. It's hilarious.

The night is waining, people flowing in and out, and Tommy's departure isn't going to set the mood for the rest of their wild night.

But it's inevitable, really, for tiredness to catch up.

Karen and Hen are the first to say their goodbyes, leaving only the guys behind.

Ravi is next, the couple from before long forgotten as he walks away with a goth girl.

Chimney lingers a while longer, but in the end he leaves to.

It's only Buck and Eddie.

It's always them, together, in the end.

They took a Uber back to Eddie's house.

Buck is sprawled on Eddie's lap, snoring and drooling softly, but to Eddie he's the most handsome he's ever been.

Fingers thread through thick curls, untying the knots in them, reveling in the soft sighs it coaxes out of Buck.

He takes another bite of the cake, the batter melting in his mouth, filling it with a sweet taste that's still not as sweet as the taste of Buck's lips on his own.

“What a night, huh?”

He says, mostly to himself, brushing his mustache between thumb and forefinger. Buck hums, in his sleep, and Eddie can pretend he agrees with him, with the hidden meaning behind his words.

Buck doesn't know, not yet.

But Eddie is not in a hurry.