Title: Clueless
Fandom: 9-1-1
Genre: Contemporary, Drama
Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Nothing of note, but always good to keep canon in mind.
Author Note: I drew on my own experience of discovering I had a food allergy, so this isn’t as weird as it seems.
Timeline: Vaguely before the end of Season 4
Challenge: Just Write Create Your Own Bingo – Bad Things Happen, Prompt: Allergic Reaction
Word Count: ~2,100
Summary: Buck thinks that’s the way it’s supposed to taste, until it nearly kills him. Eddie is unimpressed with his best friend’s problem-solving skills. Admitting being in love between epinephrine shots wasn’t how he’d planned the day to go.

Clueless

“Here, try this.” Pepa handed him a drink with bits of peach and green, and he suspected he knew what it was.

Buck tried to wave it off. “I’m okay with my beer.”

She mock frowned at him. “My peach mojitos are famous in this family. It’s not a Sunday brunch without them. Drink up.”

“Right. Looks wonderful. I do love peached.” He figured he’d get plenty of spicy later; he didn’t need to blow out his tastebuds before he’d even had a bite of food. A single sip, and it confirmed it was eye wateringly hot. Damn Diaz family couldn’t do anything in moderation. He coughed a bit and thumped his chest, and got an incredulous look from Hector, Eddie’s cousin and Pepa’s son.

“Seriously, man?”

“Your mom doesn’t skimp on the mint.”

“It’s a mojito. If it’s just rum and lime juice, it’s something else.”

Something tasty, Buck thought to himself. Mint was just too spicy for his taste. He could hang with people fine on the chili front, but mint just hit him wrong, and this mint was way over the top.

Hector drifted off a little later, and Buck occupied himself with entertaining the kids while chasing the lava-mojito with his left-over beer.

Eddie appeared with another mojito in hand. “Hector said you wanted a refill.”

“That troll. No thanks, man, you drink it.”

Eddie glanced around like the FBI were listening in. “Man, this whole family loves you, but do not let them think you don’t like Tía’s mojitos.”

“It’s just too spicy for me, Eds.” He cleared his throat because he was out of beer and the tickle was outrageous. “I’ll hang with your cousin on that crazy red chili sauce he like to douse his tacos in, but I can’t with this family’s love of mint. I’ve got my limits.”

“Say what?” Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Too spicy? Mint isn’t spicy.”

“It’s hot. And whatever mint Pepa got ahold of is like lava.” He cleared his throat again, wishing he had another beer.

“Hot,” Eddie repeated looking confused. “Didn’t you eat mint candies when you were a kid?”

“No, I never liked that heat level. I’d just stick with cinnamon candies—Hot Tamales or whatever.”

“Wait. You think something like a Peppermint Patty is hotter than Hot Tamales?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it, Buck. Mint is slightly cooling. Maybe a little tingly, depending on where it touches. It’s not hot.”

“It’s hot,” Buck emphasized, coughing a bit and figuring he’d need to go get some water. “Sometimes it even makes my skin swell up the way it gets if I cut hot chiles without gloves on.”

Eddie blinked a few more times. “Oh shit.” Then he grabbed Buck by the hand and dragged him towards the house.

“Eds!”

Eddie called out to Isabel in Spanish, something about them being back shortly, then he hustled Buck towards the bathroom.

“Strange time to make your move, Eddito,” Isabel called after him.

Buck sputtered.

Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. “Mouth open.”

Buck gaped at him.

“More than that.”

“Eddie!”

“Buck, think like a first responder. What are the symptoms of a food allergy.”

“Oh, but…no.” He shook his head. “I would have known by now.”

“It sounds like you did. You just thought it was how everyone reacted to mint. Let me see inside your mouth.”

Reluctantly, Buck opened his mouth, and Eddie used the light on his phone to check him out.

“That’s more swelling than I’m comfortable letting go.” He took a few pictures. “Is this reaction worse than ones you’ve had in the past?”

“It’s the hottest I’ve ever thought a mojito was for sure.”

“I think we’re making a run to the ER.”

“Nooo. Even if it’s necessary, I can handle it on my own.”

“Oh sure. You’re having a potentially serious food allergy, please get behind the wheel and drive.”

“Um. Uber?”

“Dumbass.” He took Buck by the arm and steered him out of the bathroom. “Abuela! I’m taking Buck to the emergency room. He’s allergic to mint.”

Buck squawked in indignation.

Isabel was suddenly there, hustling him out the door. “Never drink something you’re allergic to just to be polite! My goodness. I’m going to give you such the lecture when you get back. Go go go. I’ll tell everyone. Keep me posted and get back as soon as you can.”

“Don’t tell everyone; I didn’t know!” Buck called out even though the door was already closed.

“Come on, clueless. We’ll make sure you don’t die and get you back in time for food.” As soon as they were in the car, Eddie flashed concerned looks at him when Buck kept clearing his throat. “Is this hitting you harder than usual?”

“Yeah. Not sure why.”

“Don’t you have that oral allergy thing with peaches?”

“Yeah, but it’s not an allergy to peaches. And it’s not even all peaches, all the time. It’s the pollen of whatever tree I am allergic to that was in the air when the peaches were ripening.”

“But since you don’t know what tree you’re allergic to because you never found out, you could have that oral allergy thing with the peaches making this worse.”

“I suppose.” He coughed.

“Dios. Just don’t die on me, okay.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“Food allergies shouldn’t be messed around with, Buck. I can’t believe you’ve been running around your whole life with a food allergy and didn’t know.”

“Hey! I knew I was allergic to chia seeds.”

“They’re in the mint family.”

“Oh. Right.” Buck made a face. “You know, Maddie has the same reaction to mint.”

“She’s a nurse.” Eddie sighed and fumbled with his phone, ringing coming out over speaker.

“What’s up, Eddie?” Chimney said.

“Listen, if you had someone experience a benign food as hot to the point of pain and causing swelling in their mouth. What would you think of that?”

“Sounds like an allergy, and they should avoid it until they can get it tested. Hell, with swelling in the mouth, I would avoid it even if food allergy tests were negative since they aren’t always 100-percent reliable. Why?”

“Both Buckleys experience mint as spicy like chilis,” Eddie deadpanned. “I’m taking my dumbass to the hospital to make sure he didn’t poison himself with a mojito.”

“Hey!” Buck tried to help, but just managed to cough.

“Say what now? I gotta get all the mint out of the house. No wonder Maddie always spit it out!” There was a pause. “Oh, bye! Text me how Buck is.”

“Will do.” He gave Buck a side glance. “Just making sure the other tolerable Buckley doesn’t accidentally off herself with some ill-considered garnish.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

Eddie pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, right in front of the ER doors, then patted Buck’s knee. “Keep telling yourself that. Come on. Let’s go make sure you’re not going to wreck Christopher’s birthday party plans.”

“I would never!” Buck devolved into coughing.

“If you think you not being at his birthday party wouldn’t ruin it…”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Which is why I’ve been keeping you distracted so you don’t notice how much you’re wheezing. If it wouldn’t have been slower to wait for an ambulance, we’d have absolutely called 9-1-1.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Please notice them coming at you with the wheelchair and not even asking for you to sign in. It is that bad. Now, cooperate, and I’ll consider getting you some ice cream later.”

Buck was practically shoved unceremoniously into a wheelchair. “Eds.”

“It’s all going to be fine, Buck.” To the nurse, he said, “Food allergy to mint, we think amplified by some oral allergy issues with peaches. Significant inflammation of tongue and airway,” Eddie rattled off. “I need to move my truck, but I have all his details, and I’m his medical proxy.”

“Truck can wait for a couple of minutes.” She waved her hand, gesturing to someone behind Eddie. “Security will come get me if we need to move your truck urgently before I finish getting the information I need.”

~*~

Buck sucked on an ice chip to soothe the irritation in his throat and stared at Eddie, who was sitting reading a magazine by Buck’s bedside, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “How much longer?”

“As long as the last time,” Eddie replied without looking up.

“You didn’t even ask last time; you just said, ‘whenever they’re ready to discharge you.’”

“Answer stands.”

“Eddie!”

“Evan,” he shot back.

“I want to go home.”

“And I don’t want my best friend to die over a peach mojito.”

Buck sputtered. “I didn’t almost die.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Buckley, how many doses of epinephrine have we had today?”

Buck scowled at him.

“Three was it? And they very nearly had to intubate before that third one kicked in.”

“It wasn’t three at once! This isn’t my fault, Eddie. I barely knew biphasic reactions were a thing.”

Eddie shot him the hairy eyeball. “That’s not the defense you think it is.”

“I’ve had mint before, you know. Many times.”

“Stop sulking. Food allergies can get worse over time. You know this.”

“I didn’t know I had a food allergy.”

“Right. You just thought all the six-year-olds in Hershey eating Junior Mints were scalding their little tongues out of their heads with every little brown morsel.”

Buck scowled at him. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“You love me, admit it.”

Buck pondered that for a second. “Hmm. If I admit it, will you finally make that move your abuela was asking about?”

Eddie sputtered. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“I have great hearing.”

“Buck.”

“Eddie.”

“Evan.”

“Edmundo.”

Eddie scowled. “Just call me Eddie.”

“Okay, Eddie, but you can call me Evan sometimes…if you want.”

Eddie contemplated him for a long time, then got to his feet and sat on the edge of his bed, facing Buck, their hips touching. He reached up and cupped Buck’s cheek. “I do want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Buck’s mouth.

Buck hated the hospital visit, but it wasn’t so bad if it got him everything he’d ever wanted. He leaned in a little closer, but Eddie pulled back with a frown.

“Why do you taste minty?”

“I tried to get that peach mojito out of my mouth. Guess it didn’t work.”

“Get it out how?”

“I brushed my teeth.”

“With hospital provided toothpaste?”

Buck’s eyes widened.

“Mint toothpaste?” Eddie clarified.

“Surely there’s not much actual mint…”

“Ay Dios, I’m in love with someone who has the survival instincts of a lemming.”

“You love me?”

“Can we focus on the fact that you just stuck more mint in your mouth?” Eddie reached for the call button.

“Can we not?”

“Didn’t it burn?”

“Toothpaste always burns.”

“You are absolutely not teaching our son how to navigate food allergies.”

“Our son?”

“Don’t give me that soppy look; I’m annoyed with you right now. I can’t believe you stuck more mint in your mouth.”

“It’s a habit!”

“So is breathing, Evan! And breathing is the good kind of habit, one I’d like for you to cultivate.”

“Is there a problem?” the nurse asked from the doorway.

“No,” Buck said quickly.

“Yes. He brushed his teeth with mint toothpaste.”

“Tattletale.”

“Considering the three shots of epi due to the mojito, I think tattling is appropriate, don’t you?”

“I just want to go home.”

“Is it better to die in the parking lot?”

“I’m not going to die in the parking lot.”

“That’s right, you waited to almost die in the hallway of the hospital.”

“But we were in the hospital, Edmundo. It’s an important distinction. I’d never die on you in the parking lot.”

A throat clearing caught their attention. “I’ve paged the doctor; I’ll just leave you to your…flirting. Press the call button if any symptoms return.”

They stared at each other.

“That’s not how we flirt,” Buck said indignantly.

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Suddenly I’m not so sure. I’d ask Hector, but he’d laugh at me.”

“Oh god. It is how we flirt.”

“We have to pretend like we’ve always known.”

“Sure. Like anyone will believe that.”

“Leave me my illusions, Evan.”

“Find me mint-free toothpaste, Edmundo.”

Eddie pulled out his phone and started Googling. “How do you feel about lemon?”

The End