He holds out his hand. “Jake.” Bradshaw looks at him like he’s the dumbest man alive, his gaze sharpening with condescension. “You’re my engineer, I know who you are.” “So sue me for being polite.” His jaw works, but after an interminable second he steps forward and takes Jake’s hand. “Bradley.” Jake hangs onto the handshake for an extra second and smirks. “Such an honor to meet you in person. The king of IndyCar, finally gracing us with his presence here in F1. Can’t believe it.”

"I know I should just get a couple of window units. I just keep forgetting when I actually have time." That, and he's not sure the expense is worth it, when it's just him here. Maybe when Chris moves in, if he moves in. Eddie doesn't want to risk fracturing their fragile armistice to ask, at least not yet. But he can imagine the face Buck will make if he says any of that, so he doesn't. "I kinda feel bad about hogging your AC now," Buck remarks, as Eddie heads back toward the bedroom with his beer bottle. "You're the one paying the utilities now." "Mm. True. And you're stuck sleeping in those tighty whities because you don't have AC." Eddie sputters on a sip of beer. "Okay that's not—" "Uh huh." "I'm not wearing tighty whities." "Right," Buck says indulgently. "We shared a locker room for seven years, you know I don't." "All right, fine, what—what are you wearing then?" Buck asks, laughing. And Eddie—pauses. Goes still, beside his bed, in the dark bedroom that still doesn't feel like his. Through the open windows, he can hear the low drone of insects. The glass bottle is sweating condensation against his palm, and his skin feels damp and hot.  His pulse thumps in his ears. He sits on the edge of the bed. "Eddie?" Buck says, and he can hear it in his tone, the anxious apology, the imminent backward scramble.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love” Eddie says out of the blue, like he has been pondering over the words for a long time.

“What do you mean?” Buck questions before he gently bites the corner of his bottom lip.

An almost heavy sigh escapes Eddie’s lips and he leans back in the couch, swirling what’s left of his beer.

“I just-… I hear people talking about how great it is to be in love and I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way about anyone. I would know, right? I should know” He answers his own question.

Buck studies Eddie’s face for a moment, maybe a moment too long because he can’t tell if Eddie is joking or not. Maybe because he’s certain about his feelings for Eddie. He doesn’t let it show but Eddie’s words feel like a slap in the face.

"No, no, nothing like that, you left me the property manager's number anyway, remember? The house is fine." Buck pauses, then says, "I miss you," and Eddie thinks for a second that it's a non-sequitur before he realizes that it's an explanation. Or: after Buck unpacks, he finally gets around to calling Eddie.

Eddie draws in a sharp breath and, all of a sudden, realizes that he’s hard, or getting there at least. He glances at his phone screen again, at Buck’s peaceful face, still fast asleep, and hits the red button in a panicked daze. He must’ve gotten his wires crossed somehow, maybe he dreamt something or he’s just– pent up, or whatever, and then the thought of Buck’s chest, and his thighs– He must’ve gotten his wires crossed somehow, maybe he dreamt something or he’s just– pent up, or whatever, and then the thought of Buck’s chest, and his thighs– ~ eddie wakes up with buck still on facetime. he's not normal about it.

Eddie was once proud to say that he’d never, in his life, posted a thirst trap. Alas. @eddiaz followed @firehose @eddiaz posted a new photo @eddiaz liked 3 of @firehose’s photos Or, Eddie tries to thirst trap his best friend. Easy, right?

Buck swallows. He needs to be brave. He needs to shut the fuck up. He needs to speak his truth. He needs Eddie to know. “Eddie,” his voice is hoarse, “I—I need to tell you something.” [or eddie comes home and buck stays]

There are a lot of issues with being forced to confront the idea that you might be in love with your best friend. Eddie is Buck's favorite person, and he never wanted to look at what that meant all too closely because, well, he can't hate the fact that he can't have something if he convinces himself he doesn't want it. But it's not like he could stop himself from letting the feeling register with Eddie standing in front of him. When Eddie is in his reach, and somehow even more beautiful than in his memories. or Eddie is back. Buck is in love with him. He's being very normal about it.

"Does that change anything? For you?" he asks. "That I'm not straight? That I want you?" he adds, unsure of whether their faces grow closer because he's swaying that way, or because of the light pressure of Buck's forearm at the back of his neck, steering him. "That I've always wanted you? That I'm finally ready?" Buck's pupils grow larger, lips parting - so Eddie continues. Just for the hell of it. "That I'm ready to kiss you until I can't breathe? That I'm ready to go to bed and wake up with you? That I'm ready to call you my partner? For real? The way I think we've always kind of meant it?" Eddie leans even closer, savoring the warm exhale washing over his own parted lips before he dodges Buck's, craning his neck until he's lowering his voice against the shell of his ear instead. "That I'm ready to know how much bigger your beautiful cock gets when you're all hard and leaking for me?"

And it’s as Buck passes over an opened bottle of water, worry tugging down the corner of his lips, that Eddie puts the pieces together. “You’ve been taking care of me.” He rasps, words causing his throat to flare with pain.

The LAFD vs LAPD annual baseball game is here and Eddie gets some thanks from Buck for teaching him how to play.

So there he was, doomscrolling through Reels of adorable dogs in need of a good home that Buck could very well provide if there wasn't something so fundamentally unlovable about him, when Eddie's contact picture appeared on his screen requesting a FaceTime call. Eddie usually checked in before calling, though that was a formality more than anything. Buck was always going to drop everything and answer Eddie's calls, but he did take a moment to turn off the TV and un-slump himself from the couch cushions before doing so. Ever since Eddie had left, Buck felt like he was walking around without his left hand, not completely helpless but certainly at a disadvantage. But even just the two-dimensional rendering of Eddie on his phone screen settled something in Buck, almost like he was whole again. Almost. (Or, Eddie calls, Buck answers)

Almost like he’s been summoned, Eddie’s phone lights up, a picture of Buck holding a halligan like a weapon filling the screen. Oh fuck. He can’t answer a FaceTime from Buck right now, can he? He almost ignores it, but then he thinks about a month’s worth of FaceTime calls and years of calls and shifts and hangouts before that and he groans, this time a mix of pleasure and frustration and he strokes himself again before he stops moving his hand and answers the call with the other one. “Remember that time when we went to the Dodgers game and we couldn’t find my Jeep after we left?” Buck says instead of hello when Eddie answers. “It took us like an hour to figure out we  were on the wrong side of the stadium and — woah Eddie, you’re all red. It must be really fucking hot there, huh?” OR Buck FaceTimes Eddie while Eddie's jerking off. Eddie answers.

Eddie had always secretly desired things he couldn't have. He desired parents who would cherish him, the same way he was supposed to cherish his or else be uninvited from Heaven. He desired steak on Sundays and he desired to win a baseball trophy in his name. Turns out, Eddie also desired to kiss a boy. Just once. Just once wouldn't count. Right? _______ OR Eddie has always claimed that he shared his first kiss with Shannon. Only it wasn't the case.

He can’t handle standing next to Eddie for however long it takes to clean the engine, he just can’t. He’s going to lose it. And he’s going to lose Eddie, too, because he’ll inevitably either kiss him or confess his undying love. He can’t even guarantee he won’t just drop down on one knee and propose. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be right there, Bobby!” Buck yells before dropping his rag into the bucket and taking off towards the loft, leaving Eddie standing there dumbfounded. “Buck, no one was calling for you!” he shouts, exasperated. Buck ignores him and bounds up the stairs. — Or: Buck realizes he's in love with Eddie shortly before a 24 hour shift. Out of fear of accidentally confessing his love, Buck tries to avoid him at all costs. If only Eddie wasn't so derermined to talk to him.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot! HA!” Buck grins, covering Eddie’s rock with his paper. “My pick for mains.” Or, Buck plans a first date. Eddie gets wooed across LA. These things might be connected.

Eddie “accidentally” tells Buck ‘Love you!’ at the end of a facetime call and then just… keeps saying it.

Finding out that Buck hooked up with Tommy the other night has filled Eddie with some kind of sick, possessive heat. It's thorny, jagged, edged like a knife, and it's been controlling most of his thoughts and actions for the last day and a half.

“How long have you known?” Maddie reaches for the phone, and Chimney waves her off, shaking his head. “Depends. What exactly is it that I know?” Another pause, followed by a sigh that just about says everything on its own. “I think I’m in love with Buck.” Instinctively, he reaches out for Maddie, nodding, as he pulls the phone away and mouths "it’s happening" at her. He opens his eyes wide, which he hopes translates to about a million exclamation points tacked onto the silent statement.

“Oh no,” Chim says, before Eddie’s even landed on Maddie, “We’re all happily married. You want someone to kiss you, you find some single lips.” Buck nods in agreement, lifting his beer again. He’s barely brought it to his lips when he realizes the entire table is staring at him expectantly. He blinks. “Why’s everyone looking at me?” “You’re single,” Athena says. -- or, Buck and Eddie are Buck and Eddie.

The second the words leave his mouth, Eddie wishes he could claw them back in. Reach out into the space between them—that chasm of distance that’s been building over the last several weeks. They’re twenty feet apart in literal terms, Buck’s sitting at the table and Eddie’s at the top of the stairs, clutching his hands in front of himself, but the entire world is separating them because— Because. Fuck. -- Or Buck wants to start a family, but he already has one.

Eddie takes a breath, and he pushes down on Buck’s shoulders until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Then Eddie drops to his knees between Buck’s thighs, like he’s ready to pray. Back in El Paso, Eddie got used to Sunday mornings in church. It was surprisingly easy to fall back into the rhythm of it, even though Eddie has been beating out of sync for his entire life. He still doesn’t believe - not in god, or sin, or hell. He does believe in heaven, though. Thinks he’s found it right here, in Buck. Because nothing - no god, or church, or prayer - has ever felt as holy as this.

Adriana gestures vaguely. “Start with why you look like you just found out you’re in The Truman Show.” Eddie sighs. “It’s just—Buck was telling me about how he ran into Tommy. And then, out of nowhere, he says Tommy thought he had a chance with him now because the ‘competition’ was gone.” Both of his sisters blink at him. Adriana tilts her head. “And by ‘competition,’ he meant…?” Eddie throws his hands up. “Me!” OR adriana and sophia help eddie figure his shit out.

How long have you been in love with her? Is sitting in the air as they laugh, turning to each other like they’ve done something, and dropping the subject entirely in favor of grilling Grant on his upcoming wedding. How long have you been in love with her? Is sitting in the air as he blindly grabs for his beer, dragging it to his mouth and downing what’s left in the bottle in one desperate gulp. How long have you been in love with her? Is rewording itself, reworking itself, translating itself until it fits; How long have you been in love with him? -- Or, Eddie's in El Paso and suddenly everything makes sense.

“Look,” Eddie says, voice steady in a way that sounds forced, “if you don’t feel the same way—” “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Buck interrupts, good hand in the air to say stop. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t think it’s the right time.” Eddie lets out a slow, controlled breath. His jaw twitches. “You almost died. Again. When’s the right time? At your funeral?” Or: the one where Buck realizes his feelings and self-sabotages out of fear, but Eddie won't let him go that easily.

Michael and David come to visit Bobby and Athena's new house. Of course, their annoying new neighbors also need investigating, and who better for the job than proven duo Bobby and Michael?

The one where Evan Buckley has gotten hurt (…again) and struggles to accept any kind of help, but Eddie just takes over, so there's really nothing he can do about it. Or the one where Buck can't shave his own beard, leading to Eddie Diaz's full-on proper gay crisis.

Eddie moves to El Paso, but in the frenzy of the move, he forgets to disable his Ring camera. When he starts getting alerts every time Buck brings someone home, he starts an increasingly unhinged process of cockblocking his best friend.

Buck scoffed, ripping his arm out of Eddie’s hold. “Seriously, Eddie? You’re really trying to sell me that ‘it’s not you it’s me’ crap?” When Eddie stayed silent for one moment too long, Buck turned around, more than ready to leave their shared bed and said, “Screw the couch. I’m going to stay with Maddie for a while.” “I can’t stop thinking about Tommy,” Eddie blurted out and Buck was glad he was still sitting down because hearing that likely would have ended up with him falling right to the ground with the way he lost all feeling in his legs. And in general. All he could think through the sudden numbness taking over his body was- “My ex boyfriend Tommy?” And here he thought things couldn’t get any worse. Or more confusing. Or, the one in which Eddie and Chris return home and there's only one bed

Eddie is - he’s straight, okay? And Buck is way past wanting things he can’t have…way past begging for scraps of affection and attention and love. He refuses to ever be that person again, even for Eddie. So. So Eddie wasn’t in love with Buck, and Buck wasn’t - isn’t, can’t be - in love with Eddie, and all of this is just. It’s ridiculous. Impossible. Unbelievable. “I’m not in love with my best friend,” Buck says, but the words feel strange in his mouth.

Eddie needs a job in Texas and Buck helps him find one.

"Buck?" "Hey Eddie." Eddie rubs his eyes and blinks a few times, just to make sure he isn't imagining anything. "What are you doing here?" "Chris called me," Buck says, pushing into the house past Eddie and sitting his bag on the floor." Or Buck accidently wins the lottery and ends up in Texas with Eddie and Chris

Eddie loved his son. He loved his son so, so much. He would never stop fighting for his son. It didn’t matter if his helicopter was getting shot down in a desert halfway across the world, or if he was nearly drowning while trapped under thirty feet of mud, or if he was crawling on hands and knees back to El Paso in contrition, he was going to do whatever it took to be with Christopher. But he had also just kissed Buck for the first time ninety minutes ago, and he was supposed to have 1,440 more minutes of kissing before they had to go back to the real world. Eddie had waited seven years for this, he wanted twenty-four hours of uninterrupted necking with the love of his life, god dammit. (Or, Buck and Eddie Get Cockblocked)

“I just—I don’t want you to be alone,” said Eddie, softly, like an admission. Join the fucking club, Buck thought. It was funny, but none of his laughs were coming out right tonight. “I am alone, Eddie.” “Buck, I—” “She wants my kidney.” There it went; Buck never could keep anything inside. Could never keep the feelings contained, could never stop them from spilling out over the people nearest him. “That’s what fucking happened, okay? My dad needs a kidney donor and they remembered why they bothered having me in the first place. Is that what you wanted to hear? That my parents finally found a use for me after all these years?” ----- A request from his mom tears open old wounds for Buck. From 800 miles away, Eddie tries to stitch him back together.

“Everything about being with Eddie feels right, and good, so so good, Maddie. It’s not timing or logistics, or even—I know he’d say yes if I did ask to move in.” “But you feel like you can’t?” Buck shakes his head. “Because I’m cursed.” (or, buck needs a loophole. eddie needs to know buck needs a loophole.)