Speak His Language

Within one month with the 118, Eddie has Buck figured out. Buck needed verbal praise and physical touch like most people needed oxygen and food. And Eddie was going to give it to him. Buck gave him so much more in return.

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The Buddie discord I'm in was talking about Buck being touch starved and thriving on physical affection. I'm of the belief that Buck's love language is Words of Affirmation. The two ideas blended in my mind into this.

Aaaand it fits as a First Kiss Week fill for Day 7: Author's Choice.

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Buddie First Kiss Week, buddiefirstkiss, firstkiss2020, Getting Together, Introspective, Love Languages, Five Love Languages, Praise, Words of Affirmation, Physical Touch, Non-Sexual Touching, gifts, Acts of Service, Supportive Relationships, Meta, prompt: free day

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Eddie wasn't the most 'touchy feely' kind of guy, in that he wouldn't be the first person to reach out and offer someone physical touch and getting him to talk about how he was feeling was like pulling teeth.

But he also liked to think he was pretty self-aware, most of the time. He knew that those two facts were the cause of a lot of his problems in life and he didn't want those kinds of problems for his son's life too. So when it came to Christopher, Eddie was quick with hugs and gentle touches, and he tried so hard to be open about feelings and his own shortcomings, so that Christopher would know that feeling things was normal and okay and that he could come to Eddie with anything and his dad would always be there for him.

But that was with Chris. That was with his son. With the rest of the world? Not so 'touchy feely.'

Which didn't mean he was a bad person or that he was cruel to people. He wasn't mean. In fact, most people seemed to like him well enough. Eddie had met lots of people in L.A. that were genuinely nice to him, and the 118 crew had warmed to him pretty fast.

Except for Buck.

Looking back on that first day was surreal. The Buck Eddie knew was warm and open and kind. The Buck he met that first day was hostile and cold and postured like a body builder in a high end gym. But that first day had taught Eddie a lot about who Buck was as a person, even with all that fronting.

Buck could handle himself under pressure.

Buck worried about being replaced.

Buck cared a hell of a lot about his team.

Buck could admit when he was wrong and someone else was right.

And Buck thrived on verbal validation.

It had stunned Eddie that night—how quick Buck's tune switched. He'd gone from bristling like a threatened cat to shy and sheepish and soft in an instant. And all it took was a compliment, an acknowledgement of Buck's skill. It was the simplest bomb diffusion Eddie had ever done, and it took him awhile to realize how he'd even done it.

The shift was too drastic to brush off as coincidence, but Eddie had met a lot of people who preened when complimented. Heck, most people warmed to a compliment. It wasn't anything to pay any mind to, not really. Except that it kept happening.

Every time Bobby told Buck he'd done a good job, he lit up like a Christmas tree. Every time someone reprimanded him, Buck wilted like every plant Eddie had ever owned. Even without a reprimand, if Buck went a whole shift without someone saying a kind word to him, he left looking down and quiet. It took one and a half weeks for Eddie to understand that Buck needed someone to remind him of his value on a regular basis in order to keep up his peppy attitude.

And, Eddie was surprised to find, he kept stepping in to be that person himself. After a call, on their way back to the station, Eddie would tell Buck something he'd done during the call was a good idea.

"Going back for that kid? Good call."

"Hey, that rope trick? That was really clever."

"Man, you're so fast. That probably saved that guy's life."

"How are you so good with animals, Buck?"

When they left from a shift, if Bobby hadn't already done so, Eddie would call out, "Good work today, Buck."

Saying those things always started with Eddie psyching himself up—because it felt weird to give out praise for something that wasn't medal or award worthy, because it was so different to how his parents had raised him—but each and every time, his efforts were rewarded by one of Buck's million dollar smiles. And as the days passed and he and Buck grew closer, the praise came easier and felt more authentic, and Buck's smiles bolstered him more and more.

So verbal validation hit Buck harder and faster than any drug on the street, but that wasn't the only thing Eddie noticed about Buck in his first month with the 118. In fact, he noticed so much about Buck in that time that anyone else might have cottoned on to their own feelings if it had been them. After all, Eddie only like to think he was that self-aware. The realization that he wasn't wouldn't come to him for over a year.

The other kind of interaction that made Buck smile and stand taller was the physical kind. No, not sex, no matter what the rest of the team liked to say. The simple, casual, domestic kind of touching. Hands giving quick squeezes to arms. Bumping shoulders. Hugs. Group hugs were even better.

Buck was quick to throw his arm around people's shoulders, and he always sat close enough to Eddie that their arms or legs or both were touching. He slapped people on the back or put a hand on their shoulder when talking to them. Buck was free with physical affection. Even with people on calls—once the danger was passed. The rest of the team had told Eddie about Buck's previous escapades with what sounded like half of L.A. but that wasn't this.

Later, after many, many therapy sessions, Eddie would start to wonder at why Buck grew reserved and sad without a friendly word or a pat on the back. Everyone else teased that he was a golden retriever and Eddie definitely saw where they were coming from, but if Buck were a dog, he was one that had not been treated well by his previous family.

By that point, Eddie was so far gone on Buck that he would've pulled the moon from the sky if he'd asked, but even long before he realized his feelings, Eddie had been doing his best to give Buck what he needed. Emotionally.

And Buck had given back to Eddie in spades. All those things Buck had done for Christopher—introducing Eddie to Carla, convincing Bobby to let Chris hang out at the fire station when there was no one to watch him, babysitting on his days off, buying Chris gifts, finding and putting together that rig so Chris could skateboard—it blew Eddie's mind. And it wasn't only in relation to Chris.

Buck used his cooking lessons with Bobby to give Eddie a home cooked meal at least once a week, claiming it was practice. He showed up when Eddie was having a bad day with beer and an open mind. He was always gifting things to Eddie—things Eddie hadn't even realized he needed but that he loved and would hate to be without once he had them—or coming over to the house to help out with something. Buck had fixed more broken stuff in the Diaz house than Eddie himself.

And with every gift, every action Buck made to help out, Eddie fell further and further in love with him.

It occurred to Eddie after the skateboard incident. When Eddie told Buck about the problem and, three days later, Buck showed him the rig he'd ordered.

Buck was saying, "I splurged for speedy delivery so it should be here, like, tomorrow." but Eddie hardly heard him. He stared at Buck's profile as he went into specifics about how the rig worked and said nothing, while every fiber of his being started screaming 'I love you. I love you. I love you.'

But it wasn't as simple as realizing his feelings—looking back over the two years they had known each other and trying to pinpoint the tipping point, when it started, how. Eddie couldn't just blurt out that he was in love. He wasn't a feelings kind of guy.

So Eddie gave out more praise—without being overenthusiastic or weird about it—and made sure to give Buck more of the physical closeness he craved. Those were things Buck thrived on, and maybe if Eddie gave him enough of them, Buck would come to feel the same way about Eddie as Eddie felt about Buck. Then Buck could confess instead and Eddie would have the easy job of reciprocating.

Okay, it was the coward's way out. He knew that. But words were hard.

When Chim decided to tell Maddie how he felt, Eddie had psyched himself up again so that he could do the same. He asked Buck out to eat, and he would have confessed over sandwiches or sushi or brown rice pasta, it didn't matter, but then Buck backed out of the meal. Eddie understood. Seeing the ambulance splattered with blood because they had to do chest compressions on a guy with a nail in his heart would kill most peoples' appetites. He understood, but he was still disappointed. To make matters worse, all that courage Eddie had built up vanished and he never rescheduled their meal.

Three days later, the 9-1-1 dispatch center had been held hostage and been saved, Chim and Maddie had confessed their feelings to each other, and Buck showed up at Eddie's house with the ingredients for homemade tacos, his hands shaking.

They sat at the kitchen table together—Eddie, Buck, and Chris—and joked around while making their tacos. In Christopher's case, it was a very messy night. Under the table, Eddie made sure his knee was brushing Buck's.

Afterward, they watched an episode of one of Christopher's favorite TV shows together, with Buck in the center. Chris curled up against him on one side and Eddie sat nearly flush against him on the other. Between them, Buck didn't say a word, but Eddie could see the shakiness receding with every passing second.

When the show was over, Christopher retreated to his bedroom to finish up his homework, with Eddie trailing behind him to help with his math. By the time Eddie returned, all the mess from the tacos had been cleared from the table, the leftover ingredients had been put away, and Buck was just finishing up the dishes.

"You didn't have to do that," Eddie told him, stepping close, but not in Buck's personal space.

Buck shrugged. "I wanted to. Besides, you were helping Chris with math. You don't deserve to have to clean up on top of that," he said with a teasing grin before turning away to put away the plates.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

"Buck."

When Buck's face was turned in his direction once more, Eddie leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. It was over in less than a second but it hung over them for a lifetime. A lifetime of Eddie's heart racing, of his mind telling him he'd screwed everything up, that Buck's acts of service didn't mean what Eddie wanted them to, that he was about to lose the only person other than Shannon who had ever made him feel like this.

Then Buck leaned over and gave Eddie a kiss too, equally as chaste, as testing. When he leaned back, his eyes searched Eddie's and his brow furrowed. "Eddie?"

Eddie wasn't the most 'touchy feely' kind of guy, but he knew he had to be. In that moment, he needed to be. So he reached out and pulled Buck in for a hug tight enough to get the message across. Buck was quick to return the gesture.

"You're amazing," Eddie said, his eyes closed and his chin tucked over Buck's shoulder. "You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I—" The words jammed in his throat. "I don't want to let another day go by without you knowing how important you are to me," he said instead.

He hadn't been able to say 'I love you,' but if the way Buck squeezed him tighter was any indication, Buck heard it anyway.

"I love you too," Buck said, turning his head to press a kiss to Eddie's cheek before pulling him close again.

Every inch of Eddie warmed, inside and out. One day, he would be able to say those words to Buck too. For now, he would prove how he felt by touches and praises. He would be as touchy and feely as Buck needed him to be, even if it was hard, because Buck deserved it. And Eddie wanted Buck to know how much he was loved.

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fin