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“I don’t think Dad likes me very much.”
Eddie had been twelve when he’d said it, eyes red and swollen, lying across his sister’s bed.
He hadn’t formed it as a question because it wasn’t one. Not, ‘Do you think Dad likes me?’ Because the answer was obvious. To him. To his sisters. To his parents.
It was probably obvious to anyone who spent more than five minutes with them if he was realistic with himself.
Adriana had just hummed from where she lay next to him,
“I don’t think he likes anyone that much.”
Eddie had shaken his head,
“He hates me the most, though.”
She hadn’t tried to correct him, hadn’t told him he was being ridiculous, like he knew his mom would have if he’d said the same thing to her.
She’d just let the words hang in the air, grabbed his hand,
“Can I try my new nail polish out on you?”
Eddie had known that the smart option would’ve been to say no. His parents hated it when he let his sisters do that. Paint his nails, give him makeovers, play with his hair.
As Adriana spread the paint on, her warm breath blowing across his nails to help them dry, Eddie heard the echo of his parents’ voices, ever-present in his mind,
‘You need to grow up, Edmundo. You can’t keep letting the girls boss you around like this.’
Something he’d never admitted to them was that his sisters didn’t have to try to convince him of anything. Eddie liked it. It was harmless- it was fun.
Still, he’d known better by then.
Once he’d left the room, he grabbed the nail polish remover from the medicine cabinet and scrubbed viciously at his nail beds, no evidence left the next morning.
The memory pops up when he’s halfway between asleep and awake- not something he’s thought about in years. Triggered by his new forced proximity to his parents. His mind trying to make some sort of parallel between him and his own father.
Knowing why the memory is there, though, doesn’t make it any easier to stomach.
He has a crick in his neck, uncomfortable and obnoxious. A side effect of earlier in the night, falling asleep sitting up on the couch.
When he grabs his phone to check the time, his lock screen stands out, bright and stark against the darkness of the living room.
It’s an old photo, one that Buck took early on in their friendship. Chris is on Eddie’s shoulders at the zoo, infectious happiness on both of their faces. It makes Eddie ache, like pressing down on a fresh bruise each time he looks at it.
He knows he’s made mistakes. Egregious ones. Those that brought him into this situation, an empty apartment, and a kid that won’t speak to him despite living ten minutes away from him.
Even still, the memory of his own father only further solidifies his resolve. He’ll never have Chris doubt the love Eddie holds for him. He’ll never have him wondering where they stand.
Eddie will be here no matter what. Loving his kid just as much as he likes him.
_______________
His new therapist’s name is Wendy.
She’s nice, late fifties. Eddie had picked her from a list online. A link Bobby had texted him when he’d first gotten to El Paso.
“Just in case it’s something you feel like looking into.”
He’d stopped scrolling when he got to Wendy, her kind eyes reflecting back at him from the small photo on the side. Her specialties were almost comically tailored to Eddie:
‘Anxiety, PTSD, religious trauma, LGBTQ support.’
Eddie had to close the page when he got to that last one. Had practically slammed his laptop shut in his haste.
To be fair, it hadn’t been the only thing that scared him off. Religious trauma was a doozy, too.
Eddie had never thought of his growing up in religion that way. Traumatic. It seemed dramatic. Too much. A voice in the back of his mind that took on the shape of one Helena Diaz taunted,
‘Traumatic Eddie? Really? It’s just church.’
Sure, it wasn’t a fun way to grow up. All guilt and hell and damnation swirling around his head when he was too young to make sense of it all, but Eddie made it through relatively unscathed, as far as he was concerned. What lasting effects could that have had anyway?
Still, whenever he would find himself going back to the list of options, his cursor would waver over Wendy’s name.
He reasoned with himself that even if he did pick her as his therapist, that didn’t mean he had to broach the more uncomfortable topics in her specialties. He had enough going on with Chris to fill a million sessions.
So, with sweaty palms, he’d clicked on her name and set up a time to meet.
Naturally, the majority of their beginning sessions covered Chris. His move to El Paso. The things he’d left behind in LA. More specifically, the people, though predictably, he spoke of Buck the most.
“It sounds like you have a great support system, Eddie.”
It all went off the rails during a session a few weeks in, where he offhandedly mentioned Father Brian. The juice and joy.
Wendy had pressed him then, eyes assessing through the video call,
“And do you agree with him? Do you think you refuse yourself joy?”
Before he knew it, things had snowballed. Words like repression and denial made their way into the conversation.
“What would I even have to repress?”
Though the sound of his heartbeat in his ears and the sick lurch in his stomach had been enough of a sign that Eddie knew exactly what he’d been repressing. He’d picked Wendy for a reason, whether he’d acknowledged it to himself yet or not.
She had shrugged,
“Nothing necessarily. I just wanted to mention it in case that might be the case for you. It’s more common than you’d think, coming from religion.”
Eddie had hung up the call and felt his chest tightening, breath going shallow.
It’s not as if it had ever been a secret to him. He’d always known in an abstract, far-off sort of way. He’d never let himself get close enough to make out the shape of it. But it was always there. Lurking, loud, and unavoidable.
So, next session, when Wendy went through the usual motions and asked if he had anything particular he wanted to talk about, Eddie just blurted:
“I might be gay.”
He hadn’t even meant to say it, but once the words were out, once he brought light to it, it didn’t feel so insurmountable.
If anything, talking about it made him feel more settled than he could ever remember being. Sure of himself.
All of that and the few sessions after that have led to today. The homework Wendy gave him on the session that just ended. Optional, but a challenge Eddie wanted to take on: coming out to Buck.
He and Buck have FaceTimed practically every day since he left. On the times when they’re both working or busy, it’s voice notes or copious texts throughout the day, though usually it’s a combination of all three.
He knows that for anyone else it might seem excessive, too codependent. But it works for them. It makes Eddie’s days easier to get through, and as far as he can tell, it’s the same for Buck.
On the nights Eddie has therapy, conversation varies depending on how drained he is, but Buck never asks if he wants to talk. He lets Eddie lead. Lets him cry and rage, and sulk anytime he needs to.
He’s quieter than normal today, something Buck is actively pretending not to notice as he does what he does best after Eddie's sessions, when he knows he needs it: distraction.
Buck’s TV drones low in the background, a Marvel marathon airing that had gotten him onto his latest tangent,
“—And you know Chris thinks Tom Holland’s the best Spider-Man? I tried to stop this from happening, remember? I made a whole day of it. Showed him all the Tobey ones that time you stayed over at Ana’s.”
Eddie remembers that night. One of the only times he’d slept over at her place. Remembers Ana’s sweet and obvious attempts to get him into bed that Eddie had swiftly dodged, feigning tiredness.
Looking back on it now, it all makes a lot more sense.
He also remembers the nightmares Chris had had afterward as a result of the movies, something Eddie had sworn he’d never tell Buck. Chris was small enough back then that the idea of seeming grown up was the most important thing in the world. Especially seeming grown up to Buck.
“—But even after all that, he still says the newer movies are better. I can’t believe he—“ Buck’s words cut off then, “You with me, Eddie?”
Eddie clears his throat,
“Sorry, yeah. Tobey Maguire.”
It’s too late now, though. Buck is tuned into his perceptible changes of mood better than anyone else, even states away from him.
“What's up?”
Eddie blows out a breath, digs his nails into the palm that isn’t keeping hold of his phone,
“Um. I have something—Wendy wanted me to—“ He groans, frustrated with his fumbling, “—I just want to tell you something.”
Buck sits up straight then, sensing the seriousness, and nods,
“You can tell me anything.”
Eddie agrees,
“Right. That’s—I told Wendy that. You’re the person I want to tell the most. I mean behind Chris, but that’s— that’ll come.”
The smile Buck sends him is familiar, encouraging,
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
He decides the best course of action is to just say it as fast as possible, rip the band-aid off,
“I’m gay.”
He isn’t looking at Buck when he speaks, eyes downcast.
It’s silent for a second, Eddie’s heart thundering in his ears, and then,
“Eddie. Really? That’s—that’s so awesome.”
He lifts his eyes then, choking up the second he sees Buck’s open expression, voice wet and wobbly,
“Yeah?”
Buck’s nod is enthusiastic, smile a bright, beaming thing,
“Yeah. I’m so proud of you. That’s such a huge thing. You’re—“ Buck cuts himself off, letting out a huff a laugh, and swiping his hand against his jaw, repeating, “—I’m so proud of you.”
Eddie bites his lip,
“You don’t sound that surprised. Was it totally obvious?”
Buck is quick to dispel that,
“No. It’s not that I’m not surprised, it’s just—“ He shrugs, “I feel like I know you pretty well, y’know? Sometimes it felt like you had a ton of weight on you. I never knew why. Looking at you right now? That’s all gone.”
Buck shakes his head as if in disbelief as he continues,
“I’m just happy to know you. That you trust me enough to let me know you.”
Tears come then, on both of their ends, Eddie letting out a laugh after he manages to compose himself,
“You gotta stop talking, bud. I already cried enough in my session earlier.”
Buck sniffles, his face flushed,
“You’re right, on to the important stuff. Fuck marry kill. The Spiderman actors— or is it Spidermen?” A pinch appears between his brow as he thinks, “Whatever. What’s your pick?”
Eddie feels giddy, a bright laugh bubbling up,
“You first.”
Buck sighs, all put on exasperation,
“Obviously it’s marry Tobey Maguire, fuck Andrew Garfield, kill Tom Holland.”
Eddie squawks,
“You’re so wrong.”
Buck raises his eyebrow teasingly,
“What would you do then?”
“Marry Andrew, fuck Tom, kill Tobey.”
The look Buck gives him at that is incredulous.
“Eddie Diaz, you’re not seriously telling me you’d kill Tobey Maguire.”
Eddie shrugs,
“Maybe I have a thing for British accents? He hasn’t got that going for him.”
Buck shakes his head in clear disapproval,
“You and your son are complete traitors. I thought we were friends, but clearly, I’ve been living behind enemy lines.”
Eddie can’t hold back his laugh,
“Shut up.”
Not for the first time, he is floored by how well Buck knows him. How he’s able to turn something so heavy and serious on its head and have Eddie light and laughing by the end of it all.
Even after they say their goodbyes, Eddie can’t wipe the smile off his face for the rest of the night.
_______________
It’s been slow going, but things with Chris are improving.
When he first got here, Chris could barely look at him. A sullen, silent presence in his passenger seat on the mornings he’d take him to school.
As time has gone on, though, as Eddie’s shown that he’s not budging, that he’s here to stay, Chris has let some walls down.
Now, he’s a regular visitor to Eddie’s apartment. He’ll sit at the counter, work on his homework, or play video games while Eddie attempts to follow a recipe for which Buck has texted the step-by-step instructions when he’s unavailable to FaceTime. Various degrees of heckling depending on the success of the meal.
Until now, though, Chris has never stayed the night.
It was last week. Eddie had just pulled up to his parents’ house, dropping him off after a movie night, when Chris brought it up. His hand was already on the door handle, his back to Eddie,
‘Maybe I could spend the night next time.’
Eddie had frozen, heart beating out of his chest as Chris’s next words fell out, rushed,
‘Just- it might be easier. Then you wouldn’t have to drive me back so late.’
Eddie determinedly hadn’t pointed out the fact that it wasn’t late at all. Only 8 pm. An unspoken curfew that Eddie had tried his best to follow, not wanting to rock the boat.
Instead, he’d just nodded, a lump in his throat,
“Yeah. That sounds great, bud. Any time you want.’
He’d watched Chris walk to the front door, calm and collected, and then burst into tears the second he turned off his parents' street.
Tonight is finally the night. And month-to-month run-down rental or not, Eddie wants it to feel as homey as possible. Wants everything to be perfect.
He’s flitting around getting things ready with Buck on speakerphone during a lull in his shift, attempting to fill out the crossword,
“8 letters, ‘Where you might dress up for court informally.’”
“What do you have so far?”
He sighs,
“I think it starts with RE?”
Eddie hears Chim’s voice come through in the background,
“You know it doesn’t count as you solving the crossword if you have to ask us about every single one?”
Eddie can picture the way Chim pops his gum after he says it, eye roll at the ready.
“I’m not asking you. I’m asking Eddie.”
Eddie does his best to ignore the ever-present ache he gets when he’s away from the team, worse at times like these: a part of the conversation with them but only on the periphery.
Chim and Buck bicker for a couple of minutes, Eddie tuning them out as he straightens the vase on the kitchen table for what must be the tenth time, no matter the fact that Chris has seen this exact vase in this exact spot countless times before.
He tunes back in at the sound of the alarm, Buck hissing,
“Shit. Gotta go, Eds, but everything’s gonna be great! Call me tomorrow. Love you.”
Eddie feels his heart stutter in his chest at the words. It’s not like it’s new. They’ve told each other they love each other before.
Easy slaps on the back, ‘Love you man’, or a grouping together, ‘He’ll love you like we all do.’
It’s only become a regular thing since Eddie’s been in El Paso. Since the hug outside the U-Haul, so tight he’s surprised either of them hadn’t broken a rib or two.
Buck had said it first, tucked into Eddie’s neck, “Love you.”
Eddie had said it back of course, and ever since then, they’ve just kept saying it. Every time they hang up a call or a FaceTime. Occasionally, in texts when one of them is too busy to talk that night.
So, following their new tradition, Eddie repeats it back,
“Love you too, be safe.”
He can hear Hen’s teasing tone right before Buck hangs up the call, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it before his doorbell rings, signaling Chris’s arrival.
He wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans with a grimace and reaches for the doorknob, only to be greeted with the sight of his parents, Chris trailing behind.
“Oh— hi guys. Come on in.”
His surprise must be obvious because his mom shoots him a disapproving look,
“You didn’t think we’d let him come all the way up by himself, did you?”
Actually, yes. Eddie had thought that.
He’s given Chris his own key, there are no steps up to enter his building, and an elevator that takes you practically straight to his door. Chris has been here more than a few times by now. He’s more than capable of managing on his own.
Eddie holds his tongue, though, not dignifying her question with an answer, ushering Chris inside with a bright smile,
“Hi, mijo.”
Chris’s smile is less bright, but still a semblance of one, so Eddie will take it.
“Hey.”
“I was thinking we could order a pizza. That sound good to you?”
His dad interrupts,
“I told you we should’ve fed him before we left Helena.”
The words are enough to crack Eddie’s cool exterior as he speaks through gritted teeth,
“He’s allowed to have pizza, Dad. One night of junk food won’t kill him.”
His dad clicks his tongue,
“One night? Seems to me every time he comes here, all we hear about is all the sugar you let him get away with.”
Eddie should’ve expected the antagonizing.
Ever since he got here, his parents have forced him to fight tooth and nail to make any progress with Chris. They’ve dug their heels in. Back home with Eddie is the last place they want Chris, and they’ve made it no secret.
“He’s fourteen. I’m not letting him get away with—“
Chris cuts him off,
“Guys, it’s fine.”
Eddie has to fight a wince, berating himself over and over in his head. Chris has been here two minutes, and he’s already ruining it just because he let his parents get under his skin.
“Sorry, Chris.”
He leaves space for his dad's apology to follow, but of course, nothing comes. His words are ignored as his mom makes her way over to say goodbye, fussing with Chris’s hair. Her voice low but just loud enough for Eddie to make out,
“I meant what we talked about, okay? If you want to leave at any time, you call me, and I’ll come get you. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning.”
Eddie has to walk away then, not wanting to hear Chris’s reply, pretending to look through the fridge and grabbing the first drink he sees as a distraction.
When he comes back, his parents are at the door, a curt nod in his direction,
“Take good care of him, Eddie. We’ll see you both tomorrow.”
The words are full of condescension. As if Eddie hasn’t been taking care of Chris for his entire life, as if he needs a reminder to keep his own kid safe.
As soon as the door shuts, Chris lets out a snort,
“Geez, you planning on drinking that water or just crushing it?”
At the words, Eddie can feel the weight of the bottled water in his palm, looking down to see how tightly he’s gripped it in his anger. He sighs,
“Actually, I think I need a beer after that.”
It’s a joke. He doesn’t tend to drink by himself, isn’t even sure if he has a pack in the fridge, but Chris follows along easily,
“Can I have one too?”
“You wish. How about a soda instead?”
Chris grumbles but makes his way to sit at the counter.
“You’re not beating the sugar allegations with that, but I’ll take it.”
Eddie doesn’t even have it in himself to roll his eyes. He’s so happy that they’ve made it to a place where Chris feels comfortable enough to joke with him again.
Despite his parents' earlier protests, they do order a pizza after that. Settling on the couch to watch an action movie, Chris has been wanting to see.
In all honesty, Eddie spends most of the time watching Chris instead of the movie. Cataloging his reactions. Laughs and gasps and eye rolls with loud exclamations,
“That would never happen.”
He tucks each one away for later. Something to think back on after Chris inevitably leaves tomorrow to go back with his parents.
It sounds dramatic when he thinks about it, but it truly does feel like a big deal to have him here. For Chris to trust him enough to suggest this.
When he’d brought the whole thing up to Wendy earlier in the week, teasing himself self-deprecatingly about being excited, she’d admonished him gently,
“Don’t make fun of yourself, Eddie. You’re allowed to be happy about this. It’s a big step.”
So, following her direction, Eddie lets himself relish in it.
It’s late by the time they start getting ready for bed. The night filled with an endless video game marathon after the movie ended.
Buck had told Eddie to take his PlayStation with him, knowing Chris would appreciate it, and despite Eddie’s protests,
“Just take it, Eddie. Besides, you need to practice so you can actually beat me at a game for once.”
Needless to say, they’ve been playing for longer than Eddie would usually allow, lenient tonight, a special occasion.
Once Chris’s teeth are brushed and he’s in his pajamas, Eddie loiters around his bedroom door, apprehensive.
Chris sighs,
“You don’t need to tuck me in, Dad. I'm fourteen.”
Eddie clears his throat, stepping into the room now that Chris has noticed him.
“No. I know that, just— can we talk for a sec? I’ll be quick.”
Chris looks like he wants to say no, but thankfully, just nods, settling back into the covers.
Eddie moves forward, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting against the shape of Chris’s ankle under the blankets.
“I had a lot of fun tonight.”
Chris hums, voice quiet,
“Me too.”
The words make Eddie feel light enough to float.
“I really appreciate you being willing to spend the night, Chris. I know I haven’t been—“ He heaves a sigh, “—I know this whole thing has been difficult. I know that I lost your trust. Rightfully so.”
He moves his thumb against the knob of Chris’s ankle,
“I just hope you know how much I value that. Your trust. I’m willing to do whatever you need me to do to keep earning it.”
It’s not the first time he’s said something like this to Chris. They’ve had more than a few serious conversations since he’s gotten here, but Eddie always wants to reiterate it as often as he can anyway.
“I know, Dad.”
Eddie nods, fighting not to get choked up,
“I know you know. I still want you to hear it again, okay?”
Chris doesn’t answer, taking his glasses off and setting them on the bedside table. It’s an act. Eddie knows as soon as he leaves, Chris will be on his phone, glasses back on, but he takes it as his cue to exit, like Chris intended, ruffling his hair as he stands.
“Night, come wake me up if you need anything.”
Chris lets out a noise of assent as Eddie leaves the door halfway open and makes his way to his room.
When he gets there, he glances at his phone, that’s been charging on the bed, and notices a few sporadic texts from Buck:
Buck: its renfaire!!
Eddie’s brow furrows until he reads the next string of messages:
Buck: the crossword btw
Buck: 8 letters where u might dress up for court informally
Buck: hen figured it out after our call
Buck: ill tell u tmrw the guy got stuck in a knight costume!!! he paid 8000 dollars for it and i had to cut it off :(
Eddie is already looking forward to hearing all about it. Buck is the best at retelling stories. Engaging and animated in all the right places.
Eddie: I guess Chim was right. You can’t solve the crossword by yourself.
It’s only a few minutes later that he gets a reply from Buck, simple and to the point, the middle finger emoji, and then:
Buck: go to bed u loser its late
Buck: but give me a hint thumbs up or down for your night
Eddie sends Buck a string of five thumbs-up emojis.
He gets the best sleep he’s had since he’s been in El Paso.
_______________
It’s not that coming out to Chris is an accident; it’s just not how he planned it to happen.
It’s the morning after he spent the night. They’re sitting at a rundown diner in the middle of town. Eddie’s stirring a sugar packet into his coffee on top of the vanilla creamer he’s already added.
That’s a new development, taking his coffee in any way other than black. He’d started it after his talk with Father Brian. The first step to letting himself enjoy things. Buying a fun-flavored latte at a coffee shop or a fruity cocktail at a bar.
He hadn’t even realized how many things in his life before now were a form of self-punishment, even down to something as simple as how he takes his coffee.
They haven’t spoken for a few minutes when Eddie clears his throat, Chris slumped across from him in the booth, sleepy and soft,
“This was mom’s favorite place to eat.”
He perks up at that,
“Really?”
“Mhmm. They’re open 24 hours, so a lot of times I’d drive to Grandma’s house and pick her up in the middle of the night.”
He feels a soft smile form at the memory,
“It was hard, though, cause Abuela wouldn’t let us talk on the phone after 8:00, so she never knew when I was on my way over. We had a secret knock I’d do at her window.”
Chris gasps in mock scandalization,
“You guys would sneak out?”
Eddie huffs,
“Don’t go getting any ideas. Abuelo caught us eventually. We weren’t allowed to hang out for weeks.”
He pauses, grins,
“Mom would always get a huge stack of chocolate chip pancakes for us to share, and she’d tell the waiter, ‘I want so much whipped cream on top that you can barely see the pancakes.’”
Eddie does a poor imitation of Shannon, how animated she was back then.
“She’d be so hopped up on sugar she could never go to bed and then be falling asleep in class the next day.”
Chris laughs, then goes quieter, voice soft,
“I like it when you tell me stuff like that. I feel like we don’t— I don’t know a lot about her, back then. How you guys used to be.”
Eddie feels an uncomfortable pressure forming behind his eyes, a sting at the back of his nose,
“You’re right, I need to talk about her more. Anything you want to know, you can ask me and I’ll tell you.”
Chris gets a bright look in his eye then,
“Anything?”
He nods, so Chris continues,
“What’s the biggest thing Mom ever got in trouble for?”
So Eddie tells him.
They order a big stack of chocolate chip pancakes to share, mountains of whipped cream on top, and talk more than they ever have since he’s gotten here. The most they have about Shannon, certainly since her death, maybe ever.
It’s near the end of the meal when things take a turn,
“Do you think you guys would— if she were still here, would you guys be together?
Eddie looks down, then, cracking his knuckles just for something to do with his hands,
“Chris—“
His tone must be evident because Chris’s voice goes tight as he nods,
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Eddie can feel the way Christopher seems to be shutting down, sees the way the conversation is about to go off the rails, so he rushes forward to try to mitigate the damage, setting his hand against his wrist,
“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s just not—it’s not that simple, bud.”
Chris looks up, then, something akin to anger in his expression,
“You don’t need to treat me like I’m a kid. You can tell me things.”
Eddie tries to make eye contact, a futile effort,
“Hey, I know that. I’m not trying to—“
Chris sighs, pulling his wrist away from Eddie’s grip, visibly upset now,
“You said you would. You promised. No more hiding stuff.”
It was one of the first things they agreed on when Eddie got here: no secrets.
“You’re right. I’m not trying to hide anything. I do need to tell you something. It’s just—it’s heavy.”
Chris’s head snaps up then, worry obvious,
“Are you okay?”
Eddie is quick to send him a reassuring smile,
“I’m great. It’s not anything bad.”
“Then what is it?”
Eddie sighs, taking a deep breath,
“I did love your mom, mijo. I still do love your mom. That’s why— I mean that’s part of why this whole situation got so messed up in the first place, but— you know how I’m in therapy?”
Chris hums his acknowledgement, so Eddie continues,
“I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection and I realized— I mean I accepted the fact that I’m—I’m— gay.”
Chris doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie can’t tell what he’s thinking, but then his expression changes, a soft smile and teasing eyes.
“Okay, I guess it makes sense why you wouldn’t be back with mom then.”
A laugh comes out before Eddie even realizes it’s going to happen, pure relief,
“Right. Is that— I mean, are you okay?”
Chris looks confused at the question,
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Eddie shrugs, dumbfounded,
“It’s a big thing. I won’t be upset if you need to take some time to process it.”
“I mean if you're gay, you’re not gonna start dating a carbon copy of my dead mom, so I take it as a win.”
Eddie doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, he’s sure his indecision is playing across his face because Chris winces then,
“Sorry. Maybe that was too soon.”
Eddie does let out a chuckle then,
“I think I deserved that one. You get a pass.”
Chris grins, but it’s still sheepish, unsure,
“Seriously, though, it’s cool, Dad. I’m happy for you.” Then, like an afterthought, “Before Texas people thought so anyway.”
“What?”
Chris continues, shrugging,
“Like how everyone thought I had two dads and stuff.”
Eddie doesn’t know why the idea of that is making his face heat up. It’s not as if it’s a new observation. He can’t count the number of times people have assumed Buck was Chris’s other dad. It was almost easier to let them believe it at a certain point.
Buck always got a kick out of it. The way all the PTA moms would gush, ‘Chris looks so much like you, Buck.’ Like he was biologically his instead of Eddie’s.
He’d always grin, a teasing glint in his eyes as he locked onto Eddie’s own, ‘We get that a lot.’
Eddie hasn’t thought about that for a while.
Thinking about it now, it feels less like a joke. Now that they both like men and know it. It’s not some far-off, pretend thing. It wouldn’t be outrageous if people thought they were a couple because neither of them is straight.
He pictures it just for a second: some alternate reality where they figured it all out a lot sooner. Where they went to Chris’s parent-teacher nights, not just together, but together. Pictures the way Buck is with all of his past partners, clingy and affectionate in all the best ways.
Theoretically, if he wanted— if they wanted— but they don’t. He and Buck aren’t— where did that thought even come from?
His chest feels tight. He’s regretting the hoodie he’d thrown on as he left the house, constricting and too warm all of a sudden.
“You good, dad?”
Eddie must have been zoned out for longer than he realized,
“Sorry, yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
Eddie drops Chris back at his parents' house not long after that, with a quick reminder,
“I haven’t told your grandparents yet. I’m going to soon. Just— give me a bit, yeah?”
For the rest of the day, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake off the sick swoop of guilt, his mind taking him back to his thoughts of Buck at the diner.
He reasons that they barely counted as thoughts. It was a two-second thing. A What if? Wouldn’t that be so crazy?
It’s not that he wants Buck. He just hasn’t thought about him in that context since they’ve both come out. It was a thought experiment, not anything rooted in actual desire.
So, nothing to feel guilty about.
Even so, when he sees Buck’s name flashing on his screen later that night, he doesn’t answer the call, opting for a text instead.
Eddie: Sorry bud, I’m really tired. Call tomorrow?
It’s not even a lie. Eddie is tired. It was an emotional day. He’ll tell him about his talk with Chris tomorrow, when he has energy and his brain doesn’t feel like it’s been run through a blender.
Buck: ok!
Buck: sleep well love u
Still, it’s hours before he can turn his brain off enough to rest.
_______________
The thing about moving away from your hometown is, it puts everything in a new perspective when you come back to visit.
Each time he’s returned since moving to LA, it's been in short bursts of time. Never long enough to care about the differences.
Now that he’s actually living here again, all it does is remind him why he left in the first place.
It’s not that it’s all bad, it’s just different.
The weather is never right, too hot or too cold.
He’s forgotten what it’s like to run into neighbors around town, so used to LA’s expansive number of citizens.
Last week, he got stuck in a conversation with a woman at the pharmacy, one of his mom’s friends, and was late picking up Chris from chess practice.
He drives past a church, what feels like every two seconds, though he knows that’s hyperbole. They just stick out to him more now.
He remembers Buck explaining that theory to him one night at the station, sprawled across the couch, Wikipedia open on his phone:
“Like, say I wanted to buy a red car or something. I’d start noticing red cars more often, so it would feel like I’m seeing them everywhere. Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. It’s a cognitive bias. ”
Apparently, churches are Eddie’s cognitive bias.
It’s just- it’s a lot. Being back here brings up more things than he expected it to.
He tells Wendy at their next session, knowing that if he doesn’t, the feelings will just stick under his skin, fester,
“Is there something that’s come up specifically that’s bothered you? A certain memory? Or is it a combination of all of it?”
Eddie doesn’t know how to answer that question because, in a way, both things are true. It’s everything, every childhood memory, and instance with Shannon. The army. Raising Chris alone.
There is something specific, though, a memory that’s sent him into a tailspin this week. He doesn’t know why he’s beating around the bush about it:
“I kissed a guy. Once. When I was 14.”
Eddie’s never said that out loud before now.
He expects Wendy to have some sort of reaction, but she just nods, waits. It’s a common tactic when she knows Eddie wants to say more but stops himself. It always works in the end,
“Alex. From— he was in my History class. He would come to the baseball games sometimes, and I thought I just really wanted to be friends with him, but then—“
But then Eddie had been at a house party, avoiding the guys he’d come with who were all trying to get him to hook up with any girl who had looked at him twice.
It was the first party he’d ever been to, the first time he’d drunk more than a few stolen sips of beer when his dad wasn’t looking. Dragged along by the older guys on the team.
When Eddie had rushed to the bathroom to hide, Alex was already there, doing the same thing. And well, Eddie knew he was gay. The whole school knew Alex was gay. He didn’t exactly make it a secret, even back then, no matter how much hell he got for it.
Eddie had always found that so brave. He wishes now that he’d told him so.
They’d talked, both sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and then at a certain point Alex had looked at him in a way that made his breath go short, and before he’d known what he was doing, he’d already leaned forward.
Not long after that, he’d wrenched back too quickly, his head dizzy from the alcohol, and promptly emptied his stomach into the toilet bowl less than a minute later.
Alex was way too nice about the whole thing. Rubbed Eddie’s back the whole time. Made a joke, teased, ‘Am I really that bad a kisser?’
Eddie had let out some semblance of a noise that passed for a laugh, though his cheeks were practically flaming in embarrassment.
He didn’t mention that he would have no idea whether he was a bad kisser or not, considering it wasn’t just the first time he’d ever kissed a guy but anyone, period, beyond a peck in elementary school.
The next day, when Alex had tried to sit next to him in class, a kind smile on his face, Eddie had cleared his throat, ‘I’m saving this seat for someone.’
He hadn’t been. But when Shannon walked by, he’d called her over with a guilty pit in his stomach. She’d been flirting with him for weeks, he’d known she’d take the offer.
Alex hadn’t tried to talk to him again after that.
Eddie spills the whole story to Wendy, barely taking any breath between his words.
“Is that the only time you’ve let yourself act on your desires toward men?”
Eddie just nods.
After that, everything with Shannon had started. No chance for Eddie to sort through his feelings, whether he wanted to or not. And he hadn’t wanted to. So he didn’t.
“He gave me his last piece of gum. After we kissed. That’s what I—” he laughs, self-deprecating, “It’s stupid, but I was at the gas station the other day and I saw this high school kid buying spearmint gum and it just— it made me think of it.”
“That’s to be expected, Eddie. You’ve just come to a huge realization about yourself. It makes sense that a lot of things would be coming up for you that you haven’t considered before.”
Eddie explicitly avoids thinking about the diner. His thoughts of Buck. His what-if scenario.
What she says does ring true, though. Since coming out, he’s been remembering a lot more. Looking at things from his past in a new light.
He’s told most of the people that matter, Chris, Buck. He let the rest of the 118 know on separate phone calls, all ending in congratulations and easy acceptance.
He’s not worried about telling his sisters. Sophia is on the East Coast, but Adriana only lives a few hours away. She’s been nagging Eddie to visit practically since he landed.
He’s sure his subconscious has avoided it for this very reason, though, always coming up with an excuse. She’ll be the first person he has to tell in person beyond Chris. No matter how accepting he knows she’ll be, it’s still nerve-wracking.
Then, there’s the obvious hurdle of his parents, but that’s not something he’s ready to deal with. Anytime he thinks about it, his stomach lurches like he’s stepped off the edge of a building.
All in all, he’s glad he at least got some of it off his chest. As far as the things he’s choosing not to think about? Future Eddie can deal with those later.
_______________
It’s taken Eddie longer than he’d hoped to settle in at his new firehouse.
The team is all fine. It’s not as if they aren’t welcoming. They all are, for the most part. Everyone’s nice enough. There’s nothing Eddie can pinpoint that’s wrong with them other than the fact that they’re not his team.
As time has passed, he’s at least gotten used to being there. No issues arise, except one thing. To be fair, a genuine accident. At least the first time it happens.
It starts when he’s talking to Jack, one of the people he’s gotten along with the most on the team. His new partner, for all intents and purposes, though Eddie has purposely avoided using that word, chest too tight each time he thinks about the idea of it.
That spot belongs to Buck, whether they work together or not. It feels too much like a betrayal to let someone else try on the title.
He’s only a few years older than Eddie, and like a stroke of luck from the universe, happens to be gay too. He has a husband and two adorable twin girls. Their photos are plastered all over his locker.
He’d caught Eddie staring at the photos after one of his first shifts, had stormed over, chest puffed out, ‘Are we going to have a problem?”
Eddie had shaken his head so fast that he’d felt a little dizzy. ‘No, not at all. I’m— I like guys too. I’m gay.’
The knowledge that another gay person was working with him loosened a knot of anxiety he hadn’t even known he had until it was gone.
He doesn’t know if he’d consider them friends yet, but they’re friendly enough. He’s no Buck, but no one could be. Still, it’s nice to have someone in Texas to talk to. Someone similar.
Anyway, it’s a conversation with Jack where he makes his misstep. According to him, the rest of the team considers Eddie broody and mysterious. They’re taking bets on his scary backstory. Current frontrunner? Former spy.
He supposes he gets that. It’s not as if he’s been offering much as far as personal facts. He tends to keep to himself if he can help it.
In an effort to change that, he takes out his phone, talks about Chris, and opens his photos app. An olive branch.
He hadn’t realized how many of his photos of Chris also include Buck until after he’s already swiping through them. Either in the background or posing right along with him. Even a few group selfies of the three of them.
So, naturally, Jack is curious, pointing out Buck,
“Is that your partner?”
What happens next is Eddie’s fault. He’s distracted, focused on the photos he’s avoided looking at since Chris left, so he isn’t thinking when he hums back,
“Yeah. We wor—“
But, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, the alarm blaring the next second.
What he’d wanted to say was, Yeah, we worked together at my old firehouse. They were partners, just not in the way Jack had meant it.
Eddie doesn’t even catch the slip-up until the next time it happens.
It happens a while after he’s shown Jack the photos. A rough call that ended with more fatalities than saves. The first truly terrible one that he’s taken since being apart from the 118.
The second they get back to the station, he heads down to the bunk room and presses on Buck’s contact.
He gets his voicemail and has to fight not to tear up at the sound of his voice. He feels ridiculous, they talk every day. Still, the call has left him frayed at the edges, fragile.
Usually, after calls like this, Buck will make a beeline straight toward him, sit close on the couch, and press himself flush against his side, knowing Eddie likes physical contact when he feels like this. He needs pressure, a reminder that he’s inside his body.
Buck is in LA now, though. Probably out on a call of his own, so he settles for leaving a voicemail, trying to curb the shaky tone of his voice,
“Uh— hey. You’re probably on a call. Just wanted to hear your voice.” He has to clear the lump that’s formed in his throat before he can speak again, “Anyway, miss you. Love you. I’ll—Bye.”
It isn’t until he hangs up the phone that he realizes he’s had an audience,
“That Buck?”
The sound of Jack’s voice practically gives Eddie a heart attack,
“Jesus, man, I didn’t know you were sitting there.”
Jack huffs a laugh,
“Sorry. You were already talking before I could warn you.”
Eddie shakes his head,
“It’s fine. I should’ve checked if someone was in here, I just—“ he shrugs, not knowing how to finish the sentence.
Jack nods,
“I get it. I always call my husband after stuff like that. It’s not bad to want to talk to your partner.”
It’s only then that it clicks for Eddie. Partner. Jack thinks Buck is his partner. The whole team probably thinks so by now, with how often he talks about him.
He can feel his face starting to heat up, stuttering,
“Oh— that’s—“
But he stops himself. It’s been long enough by now that correcting everyone would just be embarrassing. Besides, it’s true— at least to some extent. So instead, he just nods,
“—Yeah.”
When Buck calls him back a few minutes later, Eddie almost brings it up. From an outside perspective, it’s funny, if not a little awkward. If it were a few months ago, Eddie wouldn’t have hesitated to laugh it off.
Today, though, something stops him. A twisting feeling in his gut starts up the second he attempts to broach the topic.
The idea of playing it off as a joke feels cheap. Buck is his partner. Technically, he hasn’t said anything that isn’t true. He hasn’t done anything wrong. People have always made assumptions about their relationship.
It’s not for other people to understand. Eddie gets it, Buck gets it, too. That’s all that matters in the end, so he lets the topic lie.
_______________
The dreams start on a Tuesday.
To be clear, they’re not sex dreams. Or— they’re not only sex dreams. He’d almost prefer that to what they tend to be.
The first one he has starts off ordinary enough. Eddie’s standing in his kitchen back in LA. It’s late, and the lights are low, like he used a dimmer switch that doesn’t exist in real life.
He’s stirring on the stove, tasting what he thinks must be some sort of soup. It’s all normal, besides the lighting. Nothing out of place or strange.
But then, he feels a warm line of heat at his back, arms around his waist, a nose digging into the curve of his shoulder, lips at his neck.
He knows without having to think about it that it’s Buck. He’s trailing soft kisses up his neck, not trying to take things anywhere, just wanting to be close.
He uses the arms wrapped around Eddie’s waist to sway them back and forth, some pale imitation of a dance, before Eddie speaks up,
‘Baby, you’re distracting me.’
Buck chuckles, the warm breath of his laugh making Eddie shiver,
‘What, I’m not allowed to love on you now?’
Eddie rolls his eyes,
‘I’m trying to impress you here. The soup is gonna taste like shit if you keep—‘
He cuts himself off as Buck bites playfully at his jaw,
‘—doing that.’
Buck lets out a real laugh then, twisting Eddie around to face him and framing his face in his hands,
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.’
He’s giving Eddie his puppy dog eyes, he knows Eddie’s powerless, conceding,
“One kiss. That’s all.’
Buck’s tongue is in his mouth the next second, licking behind his teeth.
Eddie wakes up from the dream in a cold sweat, shirt sticking to his back, breathing heavily.
He’s disoriented for a second, almost reaching across the bed like he’ll find Buck there. Eyes suddenly watering.
It had felt so real, is the thing. So natural. Like what they always do, the way he always feels with Buck just a little more. Just a little better.
When he gets up the next morning, he chalks it up to all the change he’s gone through lately. He’s getting his wires crossed, that’s all it is.
But the dreams keep coming.
Not every night, but they always manage to pop back up right when Eddie’s sure his brain must finally be done torturing him.
Sometimes Eddie wakes up hard and aching, a cold shower and a stomach full of guilt. But a lot of times, they’re just sweet like his first one in the kitchen.
Just them, existing, orbiting around each other, but always, always in love.
Those are the worst ones, Eddie fighting tears each time he wakes up and registers that none of it was real. Lonely in an empty apartment in El Paso, confused, his head a mess of things he doesn’t want to untangle.
He doesn’t tell anyone about the dreams, not even Wendy. Of all the things they’ve unpacked, he knows that for any semblance of self preservation, this needs to stay locked tight.
_______________
He takes a trip to visit Adriana on a long weekend. He goes back and forth about inviting Chris, but he has plans with his friends, and anyway, he figures that with the conversation they need to have, it’s probably best to go alone.
She practically tackles him when she sees him, opens the front door before he has a chance to knock, and rushes forward for a bone-crushing hug,
“Hi to you, too.”
She pulls back with a grin,
“Hi, Edmundo.”
Purposely emphasizes his full name, knowing how much he hates it when she calls him that, and suddenly slaps him on the bicep, hard,
“Ow- what the fuck was that for?”
“That was for waiting so long to come see me. And for not bringing my favorite nephew.”
He huffs, pushing past her so he can walk inside and set his bag down,
“You know, we live the same distance apart now. You could’ve come to see me.”
She gives him an incredulous look,
“You know why I didn’t. If Mom knew I was there and didn’t see her, hell would break loose. And you know she’d find out. She always does.”
Adriana and his mom have always butted heads. Her coming up at the same time as Eddie would be a disaster waiting to happen, so he just sighs.
“Yeah.”
He gets settled in the guest room after that, showering off the long car ride. Slipping into one of the hoodies he’d stolen from Buck over the years, leaving his hair a mess on top of his head.
Adriana lets out a snort when she sees him,
“Wow, you really made an effort for me.”
He rolls his eyes,
“Shut up. We’re just going to end up getting takeout.”
They do get takeout in the end, a Thai place Adriana swears by. They’ve always been close. Always falling back into talking like they haven’t been apart, no matter how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.
They have Sophia on FaceTime, propped against a coffee table book, and Eddie knows that once both of his sisters are involved, things can only be held off for so long.
Adriana’s been regaling them with tales of her latest dating escapades for the past twenty minutes, Eddie chiming in when necessary, hoping to avoid the conversation he knows he needs to have for as long as possible.
He shouldn’t be surprised when the conversation turns, Sophia giddy as she speaks up, always ready for gossip,
“What about you, Eddie? What’s up in your dating life post Marisol?”
He lets out a heavier sigh than he means to, and Adriana freezes from where she sits next to him,
“Eddie, tell me no one's pregnant.”
He sputters at that, completely caught off guard,
“Jesus, Adri no.” Then quieter, “That’s like statistically impossible now.”
She rolls her eyes as Sophia scoffs,
“Oh, c’mon, you’re not that old.”
Eddie goes with his preferred method, ripping off the band-aid,
“No. I am that gay, though.”
Sophia gasps as Adriana’s eyes go wide, and then she’s in his arms, squeezing him so tight it hurts to breathe a bit.
She pulls back after an undetermined amount of time, a grin on her face,
“It’s Buck, right?” Her gaze snaps over to Sophia, “We totally called it. He posts you on his Instagram like all the time. Tell us we’re right.”
She asks the question right as he’s taking a fortifying sip of his beer, and he soaks the front of the hoodie the next instant, coughing like crazy,
“What?”
Sophia’s eyes are teasing even through FaceTime,
“You’re not about to lie to us when that’s how you reacted to that question.”
Eddie evades her, moving to pull off his hoodie, trying to switch her attention.
“Since when have you followed Buck on Instagram?”
Adriana answers for her,
“How else are we expected to see cute photos of our nephew? You never post.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything to that, so Sophia continues the thread,
“He follows us back, it’s not like we’re stalking him. Your boyfriend’s safe.”
“It’s not Buck.”
The girls look less than convinced,
“You can tell us.”
Eddie’s voice gets tight then,
“It’s not Buck. I’m serious.”
They catch his tone immediately, and Sophia’s demeanor changes in an instant,
“Oh, Eddie.”
Stupidly, Eddie feels the sting of tears in his eyes. He doesn’t understand why. He looks away from Adriana’s perceptive gaze, eyes on his lap,
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that.”
He hates it when she looks at him like that. All big, knowing brown eyes and an understanding that Eddie doesn’t deserve.
It reminds him of the day he’d lain in her bed, Sophia on his other side, 19 and terrified, tears streaming down his face, when he’d choked out, ‘Shannon’s pregnant.’
“Is this a push time?”
That’s a classic Diaz sister move. Their way of asking, Do I leave this alone, or do you want me to push? Do you want to tell me, and just don’t know how?
Eddie can’t bring himself to say it, so he just nods.
She claps her hands together,
“Okay. Do you wish it were Buck?”
“I don’t know.”
“You gotta give us a little more to work with here.”
Eddie sighs,
“I genuinely don’t know, okay? I’ve just been— I feel weird lately. About him. When I think about him sometimes. That’s all.”
Sophia hums,
“Weird like you want to fuck him or weird like you want to grow old and die with him?’
Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers,
“Wow. Thanks for easing me into this. Really nice.”
She just shrugs,
“You told us to push.”
He did tell them that. Realistically, he knows that without this, he’d never address anything. He’d force all of his feelings down until they suffocated or ate him up from the inside out.
He cringes, squeezing his eyes shut as he speaks,
“Maybe both?”
When Eddie manages to open his eyes again, they’re both beaming,
“Doesn’t that mean you already know the answer, then?”
Eddie sighs,
“Even if I did feel that way about him—“ He raises his hands, placating their over-the-top reactions, “—And I don’t even know for sure if I do. But if I did, why would I tell him? We have a rhythm. Things are— they’re good.”
“What if you told him how you felt, and things got even better? Have you considered that?”
Eddie takes a second to let the words sink in. In truth, he hasn’t thought about it. He hasn’t let himself consider Buck as an option. Like he subconsciously knew the second he let his mind go there, it would be over. Done deal.
He does think about it now.
The idea of telling Buck. Buck reciprocating. The idea that they could do what they always do, just more. That he could touch and be touched in return. The idea that he’d never have to be apart from him ever again if he didn’t want to be. His best friend, his favorite person.
Eddie’s entire body goes warm.
“Oh, fuck.”
Adriana sets a steady hand against his shoulder,
“Are you about to panic?”
And the thing is? He’s not.
Thinking about a future with someone is usually enough to have him spinning, mind taking off without his permission, bricks pressing down on his chest. For the first time, he’s not even anywhere near the realm of panic.
Thinking about that with Buck? His entire body loosens. Tension bleeding out just at the mere idea of it. It just makes sense. Of course, it’s Buck. What other option could there ever be?
The floodgates are open. Eddie’s speaking before he even realizes he’s going to,
“I’m in love with Buck.”
His heart beats so loudly in his ears that he barely registers his sister's twin squeals of delight.
And, of course, in possibly the most comical timing ever, Buck decides now is when he should call Eddie. The notification pops up at the top of the screen, half blocking their view of Sophia.
Eddie freezes as Adriana swats his arm in quick succession and takes the lead,
“Soph Buck’s calling.”
Sophia squeals again,
“Pick up! I’ll go, but you need to call me right after.”
Eddie gives her a bewildered look, hissing,
“No.”
“Why not?”
He makes a half-aborted gesture between them with his hands, his face contorted, because hello? Are his sisters senile? Do they not remember what happened exactly 10 seconds ago?
Adriana nods like she gets it, but Eddie should’ve known better because she’s reaching for the phone, saying goodbye to Sophia, and accepting the FaceTime in one fell swoop before Eddie can even blink.
“Adri sto—“
“Hi, Buck!”
Eddie can’t see his face, Adriana is holding the phone too far out of his reach. A smart move considering if it was anywhere near him, he’d be hanging up the call in two seconds flat.
“Oh, Adriana, hey! How are you?”
Typical Buck, treating her as if she’s an old friend he can’t wait to catch up with, even though they’ve never met. Though now that he knows they’re friends on Instagram, Eddie gets a sudden sense of dread. Have they talked?
“I’m great.” Adriana flips the camera around before Eddie can stop her, “Say hi, Edmundo.”
Eddie runs a hand through his unkempt hair, trying not to wince, hoping he comes across calmer than he feels,
“Hey, Buck.”
“Sorry, Eds, I totally forgot you told me you were gonna be busy today.”
Just out of frame, Adrianna’s eyes are full of teasing amusement, mouthing out the shape of “Eds?”
Eddie tries to fight a blush, but it’s a losing battle.
“No, it’s fine. We’re not doing anything important.”
Hysterical choice of words considering the circumstances.
He looks at Buck and imagines telling the truth for a split second: I’m in love with you. Just found out, actually. Turns out it’s been going on for so long I didn’t even realize. Instinctual. Like breathing, loving you.
Adriana scoffs, repositioning the camera to herself and away from him,
“Don’t listen to him. You called at the perfect time.”
Eddie sends her a glare, he doesn’t even want to know where she’s going with this.
The smile Buck must be wearing is audible in his tone,
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhmm. We’re working on setting Eddie up on all the dating apps.”
Eddie shakes his head at her, trying to make it clear how much he wants her to shut up.
“No, we’re—“
But she cuts Eddie off before he can protest,
“You like guys too, right? You might know what’ll get him the most matches. Do you have any good photos of him?”
Buck clears his throat,
“Oh. Uh—I don’t know if I’m the expert on that. Haven’t been on the apps in a while but—” there’s a pause before he talks again, sounds of him moving around the loft though Adriana’s still holding the phone out of his view so he can’t be sure, “—I must have some good ones. Let me look and I’ll send ‘em over.”
The grin on Adriana’s face is much too smug for Eddie’s liking,
“You’re the best, Buck! We’ll get Eddie a boyfriend in two seconds with your photos, he’s always smiling so big in the ones on your Instagram. When I try to take his picture, I just get a death glare.”
Eddie tries not to audibly groan, but it’s a close thing.
Buck gives off a dry laugh,
“Ha. Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be—uh— the guys will be lining the block.”
Eddie has practically melted into the couch by now, almost flat on his back. His blush is warm enough that he feels it against his fingertips from where his hands are covering his face.
He forces himself to sit up, determined to end this before it can go any further, popping his face back in the frame,
“Can we move on, please?”
Adriana pouts, big and exaggerated,
“You’re no fun. Let’s message someone! What do you think, Buck?”
Something flickers across his face, but the screen is too pixelated to tell what it is.
“Actually, I uh— I need to head out. I have a shift.”
Eddie scrunches his nose,
“You do? I thought you had today off.”
“Nope, not this week, so— anyway. I’ll let you guys go.”
Adriana is looking at Eddie in a way he doesn’t understand,
“Okay, no worries. Talk later?”
Buck nods enthusiastically,
“Of course! It was great to see you, Adriana.”
She beams,
“You too! Have a good shift.”
Buck lets out some sort of noise of assent and hangs up the call.
“I can’t believe that worked. Oh my god.”
Eddie is completely lost,
“What’d I miss?”
She swats him again. Eddie’s sure to leave here with bruises at this rate,
“Dude, he totally wants you.”
Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh,
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m serious! He bailed as soon as I brought up you dating someone. He got all weird.”
“He had to leave for work.”
It’s Adriana’s turn to laugh now,
“C’mon, Eddie. You and Buck do everything together. You’re practically attached at the hip. You’re telling me you don’t have his shift schedule memorized? That was a total excuse. He was so down to talk until I brought up dating.”
When she explains it like that, it’s a little harder for Eddie to dispute. Could that be true? Is there a reality where Buck is feeling the same way he is?
But no. He would know. He knows Buck. If Buck felt that way, he would know. Which— Eddie doesn’t love that train of thought because yes, he knows Buck, but Buck knows him too.
Does Buck know about him? Has Eddie been pathetically in love and obvious about it without realizing it?
Adriana brings him back to the present,
“Look, you don’t have to believe me. I’m just saying, the evidence speaks for itself. Do with that what you will.”
Eddie groans,
“Thanks for that. Very helpful advice.”
Her face softens then, tugging him into her side,
“You don’t have to do anything right now. You don’t ever have to do anything if you don’t want to, but he makes you happy, yeah?”
She already knows the answer, but Eddie humors her anyway,
“Yeah.”
She nods,
“You make him happy, too. I barely know the guy, and it’s like embarrassingly obvious.”
Eddie blows out a breath as she continues,
“Just think about it, okay? From where I’m standing, you telling him how you feel is exactly what he wants to hear.” She bumps their shoulders together, “And even if he doesn’t feel the same, he’s not going to leave. You guys are too solid for anything to ruin your friendship.”
Eddie grins, slumped, mumbling into her shoulder,
“I’ll think about it.”
She leaves it at that.
“You’re tired old man. Can you go to sleep so I can gossip about you with Sophia?”
As much as he wants to pretend to be annoyed, he can’t hold back a laugh,
“Wouldn’t expect anything else.”
She grins, eyes softening,
“Love you.”
He sighs,
“Yeah, me too, even though you’re both the worst.”
Saying that is a lot easier than a deep speech about how much he appreciates her. From the look on her face, though, she hears what he means anyway.
_______________
For the next couple of days that he stays with Adriana, he doesn’t talk to Buck much other than a few texts. Buck seems to be trying to give him space for family time.
Sure, Eddie appreciates it. But he’s also incredibly codependent and has recently been clued in on the fact that he’s in love with his best friend, so the two days end up feeling more like two weeks.
As soon as he gets home, he grabs Chris so they can spend the day together, and manages to wait two minutes after Chris retires to his room for the night before he calls Buck.
His room! Chris’s room! Because that’s the thing, his previously lifeless guest bedroom is now. He stays over more often than not. Eddie is being very brave about the whole thing. He only cries about it every few visits now instead of every time.
Buck is talking as soon as he picks up the FaceTime,
“I slept on your couch last night.”
Eddie can barely see his facial expression, in the dim light of his bedroom, just quick flashes of it from where he lies on his side.
Eddie mirrors him, curled up on his bed, nose scrunching in fond amusement,
“Oh, yeah?”
Buck nods,
“Yeah. Got too drunk and accidentally sent my Uber there.”
If he closes his eyes, Eddie knows he’d be able to picture the scenario perfectly. Buck stumbling out of a bar and going to his Uber app. Clicking on Eddie’s address, his usual destination when they’re leaving a night out. Muscle memory.
Eddie gives a low hum,
“Wish I could’ve seen that. How many tries did it take you to get the key in the lock?”
That has always been a source of teasing. Buck's coordination is practically down to nothing the second he has any alcohol in his system.
Buck pretends to think on it, “I plead the fifth on that one.”
Eddie lets out a real laugh then, and Buck’s responding grin is just barely visible from the way it’s pressed into the pillow. Eddie wishes with a sudden swoop in his stomach that his overhead light was on, that he could see it better. Commit it to memory.
His next move is a large, exaggerated yawn, and Eddie quickly follows suit with his own.
Buck snorts, and Eddie’s brow furrows,
“What?”
“That was a test.”
Eddie shakes his head,
“You’re losing me, Buckley.”
Buck sits up a little bit, and Eddie knows he’s in for a tangent. He can’t wait.
“Okay, so I was reading this article—“
Eddie stops him,
“Was it an article or a TikTok?”
Buck rolls his eyes,
“I saw a TikTok about it, and then I looked it up. Whatever. Anyway, some studies suggest we’re more likely to yawn when we see someone we’re emotionally close to yawn. It’s like an empathy thing with our neurons.”
“So I passed the test?”
Eddie can hear the smile in Buck’s tone,
“Yeah, good job. I tried it on everyone else, too. Varying degrees of success. Knew you’d pass though.”
Eddie has to play it off so he doesn’t do something insane like spill his guts out at Buck’s feet,
“So you’re saying I’m boring and predictable.”
Buck clicks his tongue,
“Dependable. There’s a difference.”
Eddie wants to squeeze his eyes shut. He would if he weren’t in Buck’s direct line of sight. How can he be expected to sit with his feelings and not say anything when Buck goes and talks to him like this?
Eddie’s fought in literal wars. He has a silver star. He should be able to handle this.
“Good save.”
Buck laughs,
“Shut up.”
There’s a pause in the conversation for a couple of minutes. Comfortable in the way silences with Buck always are until Buck speaks again,
“So dating apps, huh? I didn’t know you were looking.”
Eddie sends a silent curse out to his sister. He hopes she hears him.
“Oh, uh, no. That was just Adri being annoying.”
Buck pouts,
“So I went through all my photos of you for nothing?”
Eddie sucks in a breath, caught off guard,
“You actually did that?”
Buck hums,
“‘Course. I want your sisters to like me. Had to follow through.”
Eddie bites back a grin,
“They already like you. You’re like a Diaz whisperer, apparently. Got us all charmed.”
Buck giggles. Giggles. Eddie is dying a slow death, and it’s all Evan Buckley’s fault.
“Good. Right where I want you.”
Eddie’s face floods with warmth so fast he’s surprised steam’s not rolling off him in waves.
Again, slow death.
He’s saved from having to reply when he’s taken over by a large yawn. Just as he finishes, Buck’s own yawn starts up.
“A plus on the yawn test. Passed with flying colors.”
Buck’s voice has gone slower with sleepiness,
“Try it on Chris sometime. I’m telling ya, you wanna know how he really feels? Yawn test.”
He nods,
“Sure. Go to bed, Buck.”
“Night, missed you.”
It sounds ridiculous. They were apart for two days. Not even apart, considering they texted.
Still, Eddie feels the same way.
_______________
He’s just gotten off shift, drooping eyes and heavy limbs as he sprawls across his couch, when he gets the text from Hen.
Hen: You might want to talk to Buck.
Then a few seconds later,
Hen: Don’t shoot the messenger. Chim & I flipped a coin for who had to text you.
Eddie’s pressing on Buck’s contact immediately, without taking time to think about what she means.
He can tell something is off from the second he picks up the call. Buck’s voice is chipper but fake, exaggerated,
“Eddie! How was your shift? What’s up?”
“You tell me. Apparently, I’m supposed to call you.”
Buck curses under his breath, but Eddie catches it,
“They weren’t supposed to— before you freak out, I’m fine.”
Eddie’s body locks up for a second, tense all at once and all over,
“Buck.”
Buck sighs, heavy and deep, and Eddie can almost picture the way his body must move with it. It makes something in him ache at not being able to see it happen.
He shakes his head, then like it’ll clear his thoughts out because fantasizing about the way Buck’s breathing? Now that he’s acknowledged his feelings, it seems that nothing’s off-limits.
“I got a concussion.” He stops talking for a second like that’s all and then, “A few minor burns, and I fucked up my ankle a bit but I’m fine.”
Eddie has to make himself wait before he can speak, falling back on the breathing exercises Wendy taught him for when he feels like he’s about to panic, breathe in for four, hold for four, out for four.
It does nothing to help,
“Why didn’t anyone call me? You went to the hospital, right? I’m your—“
Eddie feels his heart sink for a second, “ I am still your emergency contact, aren’t I?”
Realistically, right now, it doesn’t make sense for either of them to be the other’s emergency contact. They’re in different states. It’s not as if they can just rush over on a moment's notice.
Still, the idea of Buck changing it to someone else makes him irrationally nauseous.
Buck rushes to reassure him,
“Of course! I just— Bobby was there. And I told them they didn’t need to call you.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything for a second, so Buck continues, in an act of damage control,
“I promise it’s not that serious. I have to take some days off, rest a bit. That’s all. I didn’t want you to worry. You have enough on your plate to handle without me.”
Eddie pinches his brow between his fingers, speaking before he has a chance to filter anything.
“Buck. I want to.”
“What?”
And, well, Eddie’s already started. He might as well finish,
“I want to handle you.“ His face feels like it’s on fire, the entire thing scrunching up in embarrassment as he hears Buck let out a rough exhale.
He already knows if he doesn’t keep talking, Buck will start up an arsenal of fond teasing for his wording, anything to deflect, so he pushes forward before he can,
“I just mean— it’s not like a hassle to care about you. You’re not adding anything to my plate, you’re already—“ Eddie makes a vague gesture with his hands even though Buck can’t see him, “You’re on the plate either way- in a good way. I’d rather know.”
He hears a quick intake of breath and then,
“Oh.”
Eddie figures that the quickest way to deflect from the lovesick words he’s just spilled is humor,
“Yeah, oh you dork. So save us all some trouble next time and give me a heads up, okay?”
He can hear the heavy sound of Buck’s swallow,
“Okay. I’m sorry. I promise to tell you next time.”
Eddie shakes his head,
“See, I’d prefer there not be a next time. But I know who I’m talking to, so I’ll be realistic.”
Buck gives an indignant squawk,
“I’m perfectly careful. The whole team will vouch for me; this time wasn’t even my fault.”
Eddie shakes his head, fondness making his chest feel full to bursting,
“If you really want to show me how careful you are, you’ll stay at mine for a bit. Not fuck up your ankle even more going up and down your death trap of a staircase.”
The silence he gets on the other end tells him Buck is weighing his options, trying to decide whether to brush his offer off.
“Fine, if it’ll make you chill out. I swear you’re worse than Maddie sometimes.”
But the exasperation that Buck tries to inject into his voice is all a farce. Eddie can hear the grin that must be about to split his face in half, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
A few minutes after they end the call, his phone lights up with Buck’s name:
Buck : you’re on my plate in a good way too
_______________
Eddie’s drunk.
He’s not sure if it happened after the fruity drink with the umbrella or somewhere between the two tequila shots the guy at the end of the bar sent over, but he got there in the end.
It’s not technically his fault. He hadn’t even wanted to come out tonight in the first place.
He had his usual Friday night plans, movie night with Buck. Both of them trying and failing to hit play at the exact same time. Their reactions always end up a few seconds apart from each other, which tends to ruin the whole point of it, but Eddie wouldn’t want it any other way.
The team had invited him, though, and with the number of times he’s declined their offers, he figures he owes them.
Buck is playfully teasing about the whole thing when Eddie lets him know about the change of plans, pouting,
“You’re really abandoning your best friend in his time of need? I’m injured, Eds.”
Eddie rolls his eyes,
“I don’t like it any more than you do, but they already think I’m antisocial enough.”
It’s a dive bar first, aggressively and stereotypically Texan enough that Eddie has to fight an eye roll when he walks in. He drinks two beers and is already planning his exit when Jack stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
It’s no secret, Eddie hasn’t gotten out much since moving here. He’s been so hyper-fixated on Chris that he hasn’t even tried. Hasn’t felt like he deserves to try even if he wanted to go out.
But Chris is at a sleepover. Buck is probably fast asleep by now, so when Jack mentions meeting up with his husband at one of the only gay bars near them, Eddie decides to take the offer.
So, as previously mentioned, he's drunk, sipping on a cocktail with way too much sugar, likely embarrassing himself in front of his closest coworker and his husband,
“—But then he got these insane math skills afterwards and we played this poker game—“
Jack lets out a huff of a laugh that Eddie can’t connect back to his story, face falling,
“What?”
He shakes his head, amusement in his eyes,
“Nothing. I just think I could write Buck’s memoir at this point, considering all the things you’ve told us about him tonight.”
As wasted as he is, Eddie doesn’t catch the sarcasm, furrow deepening in between his eyebrows.
Jack's husband, Adam, just waves his hand in the air as if to clear the conversation away,
“Ignore him. It’s sweet. If we had to do long distance, I’d probably be the same way, can’t imagine how much you miss each other.”
And oh, suddenly, Eddie feels a burning sensation in his nose, tears building on his lash line,
“Feels crazy. Like I’m missing a fuckin’ limb or something. Does that sound weird?”
Because, as much as Eddie tries not to dwell on it, that is what it feels like.
Adam reaches across to set a hand on Eddie’s forearm,
“Not at all. Loving someone is sick work.”
He scrubs his hand against his face, too drunk to fight the tears off.
Jack claps his hands together, startling Eddie out of his wallowing,
“We’re officially at the weepy drunk portion of the night. Think that might be our cue to leave. What do you say, Diaz?”
Jack’s husband hasn’t been drinking, so he offers to drop Eddie back at his place on their way home. Eddie’s too out of it to worry about them going out of their way, so he just nods.
Really, he should’ve expected the call from Buck. When he’d bailed at the last minute on their plans, Eddie had promised to keep him updated. The last time he’d tried to send a text, though, the words on the screen had all blurred together, so Eddie just gave up.
As it stands, he’s answering Bucks's FaceTime just as Jack has helped him unlock his door, a steady hand on his shoulder guiding him to the couch,
“Buck!”
Eddie’s not sure what expression he’s making right now, too drunk to parse it out, but from the way his face feels close to aching, he’s sure it’s some variation of a grin.
Buck is sitting up in bed, hair rumpled and soft in the way Eddie loves. He gets a delirious urge to reach forward like he’ll somehow be able to run his fingers through it despite their distance.
“Hey Eds. I’m just checking in, I never heard what you—“
Eddie is confused as to why Buck’s words cut out until he realizes Jack has just popped up behind him in the frame, his hand still resting against his shoulder to steady him.
“Oh! Buck, this is Jack. Jack, this is my—" Eddie wants to say something like best friend or partner, but he can’t decide on which term to use before speaking, so he stumbles, “—My Buck.”
Jack raises a hand in greeting, a friendly smile on his face,
“Hey, Buck. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Eddie is expecting Buck to beam back, his usual easy banter when he first meets someone new, but instead, his jaw tightens,
“Sorry, can’t say the same about you.”
Eddie lets out an unplanned giggle, “Yes, you have. I just mentioned him in that story about the fire at the elementary school, ‘member? With the class guinea pig?”
Buck acts as if Eddie hasn’t even spoken,
“You should probably head home. Eddie’s tired.”
And, yes. Eddie is tired. He’s sure that’s obvious from his bleary eyes and slow limbs, but he can’t understand Buck’s tone when he says it.
Jack moves his hand off Eddie’s shoulder, then, making a show of raising his hands as he speaks,
“I’m about to leave, just wanted to make sure Diaz got in ok.”
Buck snorts derisively,
“I’m sure.”
There’s something Eddie’s missing. He knows that. But his mind is still too foggy to parse out what it is.
Once Eddie is settled, Jack makes his move to leave,
“Tell Adam I say bye, okay? Thanks for taking me home.”
Buck lets out a huff of annoyance that Eddie doesn’t catch as Jack moves back into the frame, his tone sounding like he’s holding in a laugh,
“Adam’s my husband.” He lifts his left hand, emphasizing his ring, “We’re very happily married. He’s waiting in the car.”
Buck’s head shoots up at the words,
“Oh. That’s—“ he clears his throat, “—that’s awesome, dude. Happy for you.”
Jack does laugh then, a quiet, easy thing,
“You too.”
Buck’s face has gone red for some reason. Eddie wants to ask why, but he’s too distracted, following Jack to the door, and twisting the lock after it’s shut. Hands fumbling in his drunkenness.
He manages it eventually,
“Ha! Got it.”
Buck lets out a fond noise, and Eddie remembers he’s still holding his phone, pointed up at the ceiling, until he brings it back to his face.
“Shut up. Drank more than I meant to.”
Buck shakes his head, eyes teasing and beautiful in the low light of the loft. Eddie is so in love. It has to be written all over his face. He’s just drunk enough not to mind much.
“Yeah, I can tell.” There’s a pause before he speaks again, Eddie stumbling to the couch, “Jack seems nice.”
Eddie hums, giggling,
“He is.”
Buck’s confusion is obvious,
“What? Is he not nice? I thought you guys were getting along?”
Eddie snaps his fingers, pointing accusingly at Buck through the camera,
“See, I knew I told you about him.” He laughs again, “No, he is nice. Just— he thinks you’re my boyfriend. Whole station does, I think.”
“What?”
Eddie is practically lying down now, slumped as far as he is,
“I know, ridiculous, right? Like you’d ever—”
Eddie stops his words there, knowing even in this state that the end of that sentence isn’t something he wants to say out loud.
Buck’s tone turns quizzical, repeating,
“What?”
He waves his hand in the air, uncoordinated, eyes fixated on the crack in his ceiling rather than the look he’s sure Buck is sending him,
“Nothin’ sorry. They just assumed, and I didn’t— but if it bothers you—”
Buck’s words pour out all at once, fast and loose,
“It doesn’t bother me. You can— that’s fine.”
Eddie is suddenly eternally grateful for the shitty overhead lighting in this apartment. Sure, his face feels like it’s on fire, but at least Buck can’t tell.
He should’ve known Buck wouldn’t mind. He’s the best. Eddie’s best friend and favorite person. Gentle with him in a way no one else has ever been.
As soon as he starts thinking about it, he can feel himself tearing up,
“I miss you.”
He tries to play it off, but he feels out of his mind. He hasn’t drunk this much in ages, he has none of his usual defenses up to mask the way he’s feeling. Eddie means to laugh it off, but it’s closer to a sob when it comes out,
“Sorry, ’m drunk. Should go to bed.”
Buck’s voice goes soft and slow, the way it always does when he’s trying to talk Eddie off a ledge,
“Hey, I miss you too. Everyone’s sick of me. All I do is talk about you.”
Eddie lets out an unattractive snort of laughter,
“Same here.”
Buck gets an odd look on his face, his following words apprehensive,
“You know if you ever want me there with you, I’ll book a ticket in two seconds, right? I have so much vacation time. I’m sure Cap would let me.”
Eddie’s heart skips in his chest,
“Always want you with me, Buck.”
The words are too honest—he knows they are—but his filter isn’t exactly running at 100% capacity right now, so he can’t be blamed.
Buck doesn’t say anything to that, but Eddie doesn’t have time to panic because his entire face lights up.
After that, Buck stays on the phone through his entire nighttime routine, only satisfied enough to hang up when he’s sure Eddie’s tucked away in bed.
Predictably, he dreams only of Buck.
_______________
Ever since his accident, Buck keeps him absurdly updated on his whereabouts, like he’s calling Eddie’s bluff on wanting to be kept in the loop.
Throughout his shifts come an array of updates from Buck. The most recent, all decidedly food-focused:
Buck : ive sat through three hours of diners drive ins and dives and i have a whole list of places we need to check out
Then later:
Buck : how much do you think i could bribe pepa for her chicken soup recipe?
Looking at the time stamps, there’s 20 minutes before the next message comes in:
Buck : i tried the bribe
Buck : no dice but i have a sneaking suspicion some chicken soup is gonna show up at my door soon and now i feel bad that i said anything
Buck : it takes hours to make eds :(
Buck's suspicions are correct. Pepa had already called him asking if Buck had any new allergies and whether he’d be at Eddie’s tomorrow. And what was Eddie going to do? Not tell her?
His most recent message is as follows:
Buck: jee says hi!
Attached to that one is a selfie of him and Jee, in Maddie’s kitchen. Jee is mid-bite of a cookie, chocolate smeared over her face, Buck grinning brightly right next to her.
“You don’t want anything to drink?”
Eddie startles at his mom’s voice, not expecting it in the previously empty living room.
“I’m good, thanks though. We’re leaving as soon as Jackson’s mom drops Chris off.”
She nods slowly, a tight look on her face,
“You’re not going to stay for dinner?”
Eddie schools his face into something other than a grimace, shaking his head,
“Not tonight. I promised Chris we could go see a movie.” He drums his fingertips against his thigh, antsy, “Already bought the tickets earlier.”
He taps the screen of his phone to check the time, bringing back up Buck’s selfie with Jee.
“What are you looking at that’s got you smiling so much?”
Eddie feels his face flush instantly, not noticing the slow smile that must have spread across his face. He clears his throat,
“Nothing, just texting someone.”
Helena perks up at that,
“Have you started seeing someone here?”
Eddie freezes, but before he can think of something to say, his Dad is making his way into the room, tone exasperated,
“The last thing he needs right now is a girlfriend.”
Logically, Eddie knows they’re only working off the information they’ve been provided with. Eddie hasn’t come out to them yet. Still, those words out of his dad’s mouth feel pointed enough that he has to dig his nails into his palms not to give a reaction.
When Eddie moves his gaze back over to his Mom, she looks less than pleased,
“Well, when you are ready to date, there are plenty of single women in town. I’m sure we’ll find you someone.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, taking a steadying breath. His entire body has gone rigid like he’s preparing for a blow. He knows what he needs to say. Knows that if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not sure when he’ll have the courage to again,
“I’m not dating anyone. And I’m not—you’re not setting me up with any women. That’s not what I want.”
His Mom reaches across the coffee table toward him, setting her hand against his forearm, concerned,
“That’s fine. I understand you need time. No one is trying to rush you.”
Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper,
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
His Dad’s tone is less than sympathetic,
“Then tell us what you’re saying. We can’t read your mind, son.”
Eddie almost wants to laugh, thinks, thank God for that.
“I’m gay. That’s what I’m saying.”
He’s looking down as the words fall out, and at the tense silence, he can’t bring himself to raise his eyes toward his parents.
His Mom is the first to break it,
“Eddie, I know things have been hard.” She squeezes his forearm with the hand that still rests there, “I know you probably feel a little lost. That’s normal with all the change, but—“
Eddie cuts her off before she can follow that thread any further,
“No. I don’t feel lost. I’m the most sure of myself I’ve ever been.”
His dad is still and silent as his mom continues,
“Where is this coming from? You— Chris told us Marisol was moving in just a few months ago. I know things went south after the—“ She pauses like she’s not sure how to refer to it, clears her throat, “—the incident, but Eddie, this is—“
“Mom. I didn’t tell you so I could hear your opinion. I told you because it’s who I am, and I’m not willing to hide it so you and Dad can feel comfortable anymore.”
His dad finally speaks up at that, his voice gruff,
“How long have you been keeping this from us?”
Eddie blows out a large breath,
“Well, I made out with Alex Morales when I was 14, so—“ he shrugs, “—I’d say a while.”
Helena scoffs,
“Eddie, don’t be crass.”
He can’t help but laugh at that, dry and humorless,
“Right. Sorry, what exactly do you want me to say here, Mom?”
He knows he’s being less than charitable. He’s just dropped a bomb on their lifelong, well-crafted perception of him. He should be empathetic. Give them time to process. Instead, all he can manage to feel is exhausted.
She puts her head in her hands as his dad rests his hand against her shoulder,
“This is a lot for us, Eddie.”
He nods,
“Yeah, it was a lot for me, too.”
His mom lifts her head then, something alight in her eyes,
“How are you planning to explain this to Chris? He’s going to be very confused. You were married to Shannon, Eddie. You had a baby.”
Eddie shakes his head, exasperated,
“Believe it or not, I’m aware, Mom. I was there. And there’s nothing to explain. He already knows. He’s known for a while now. He’s fine with it.”
She looks like she’s been struck,
“You shouldn’t have told him before you told us, Eddie. He needs someone he can talk this through with. To process.”
Eddie uses all of his willpower not to roll his eyes,
“He has people to talk about it with. He has friends. He has me. He has Buck. He’s okay.”
His dad sighs,
“So that’s what this is about? You’re with Buck?”
The disdain in his tone is enough to make Eddie feel like he’s ten years old again. Disappointing him at every turn, no matter how sick he made himself trying to do the opposite.
“No. I’m not with Buck. But even if I was, what does it matter?”
Both of his parents take offense to that, clear in their twin expressions.
“Aren’t you guys always telling me how I need a partner? Someone to share the load with? Someone to be a good influence in Chris’s life apart from me? That’s what Buck is. You should be thanking him. He’s a third of the reason Chris has turned out as great as he has.”
Eddie doesn’t realize how defensive he feels about this until the words are already out of his mouth, his chest practically heaving.
His conviction, though, is no match for Helena Diaz when she wants to make a point,
“Still, Eddie. You need to think these things through. Chris needs to lean on us. He needs to know he can come to us. God forbid something ever happened to you, we would have—“
“No, you wouldn’t.”
That finally gets her off her train of thought, her face a mess of confusion,
“What?”
Whenever Eddie had pictured telling them about this, he’d always thought it would be a gentle thing. Easing them into it. Reassuring them.
Needless to say, in reality, that’s not how it comes out.
“If something happened to me. That’s what you were about to say, right? That you’d have Chris? You wouldn’t.”
Both of their eyes widen, his dad’s words rushing out,
“What are you talking about?”
“Buck is Chris’s legal guardian if anything happens to me. I changed it years ago.”
His mom's face is ashen, awestruck; she looks like she’s going to be sick.
“You’re leaving Christopher with a coworker over his grandparents?”
Eddie doesn’t even know where to start with that statement. He’s so frayed at the edges that he can’t hold back his disbelieving laugh at her words,
“Buck is not just a coworker, Mom. Did you listen to anything I just said to you?” He huffs, “Of course you didn’t. You don’t care about what’s best for Chris, you care about keeping him. That’s it.”
His dad raises a finger, pointing straight at him,
“Watch your mouth, Edmundo. We’ve been taking care of your son for months. Of course, we want what’s best for Chris.”
Eddie raises his eyes to the ceiling, wishing to be anywhere but exactly where he is,
“If that were true, you never would’ve taken him. You would have at least given me the decency of a heads-up. You just showed up, no warning. You saw how much we were hurting, and you didn’t even try to help come up with another solution.”
His mom scoffs as he continues,
“You both have waited for this from the day we left for LA, whether you admit it to yourselves or not. You told me I’d drag him down with me, and you’ve never moved on from that, no matter how many times I’ve proven to be a great father.”
Eddie’s heart is racing, anger simmering in his chest. He has to tense and release his fist at his side to keep himself from shaking.
He moves to stand when his dad finally speaks again, panicked,
“You can’t just drop a bomb on us and walk away, Eddie. Man up and face your problems. We need to talk about this.”
He’s kept himself together for the most part, but those two words, ‘man up,’ are what manage to do him in. He can feel angry tears building on his lashline, doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing them fall.
He throws his hands up,
“I’m trying to talk about this. I told you I’m gay.”
They both flinch at the word, and that’s all Eddie needs to see. He doesn’t know why he expected anything other than judgment from them in the first place,
“I told you who I am. I told you how I feel. If those things aren’t something either of you wants to deal with, then I don’t really have anything else to say to you right now.”
Ever the peacemaker between them, his mom steps in,
“Look, we all need some space right now. Let's just cool off for a few days, okay? We’ll make sure Chris is taken care of.”
Eddie runs a hand through his hair,
“Chris is staying over at mine tonight. If he wants to come back in the morning, I’ll be here.”
“Eddie—“
He holds up a hand,
“We can take some space if that’s what you want, but you need to know that no amount of space is going to change anything I’ve told you tonight. It’s up the both of you to decide if you can handle that.”
He doesn’t bother waiting for them to respond, walking outside to wait and inadvertently bumping straight into Chris, who’s standing right outside the screen door. Eddie fights the urge to wince. Prays to a God he doesn’t believe in, that he didn’t hear any of that,
“Hey, bud! I didn’t realize you were here yet. Did you text me?”
Chris shakes his head with a blank expression,
“You wanna go put your stuff away? I’m gonna wait in the car. We have a couple of hours before the movie, so I was thinking—“
“I don’t want to go to the movie. Can we just go back to yours?”
Eddie’s stomach was already twisted in knots, but at his words, it tangles itself even further,
“Oh. That’s okay, yeah. You tired?”
Chris clears his throat,
“I just want to go.”
He starts making his way over to the car, not waiting for Eddie to catch up. He knows instantly what’s happening, Chris heard something.
Not for the first and surely not for the last time, his prayer wasn’t answered.
_______________
Chris barely speaks on the drive back to the apartment, his head pressed against the window, body turned away from Eddie.
As soon as they head inside, Chris beelines for his bedroom, throwing out an explanation over his shoulder,
“I need to talk to Buck, he said he’d help me with that algebra thing.”
Eddie doesn’t try to fight him on it,
“Tell him hi from me. I’ll come get you in a bit for dinner.”
As soon as he hears his door shut, Eddie has to brace himself against the countertop, his hands still shaking, as the adrenaline from his conversation with his parents finally catches up to him.
He thinks of Wendy, thinks of what she might say to him right now, halfway to falling apart in the middle of his kitchen.
Ground yourself. Three things you can see, hear, and touch.
Eddie can work with that. He catalogs everything in his mind, willing his heaving breaths to slow, trying to calm his racing thoughts.
It does work eventually, enough that he feels strong enough to stand. He turns toward his cupboard, looking for a distraction in the form of feeding his kid.
Eddie meant to go grocery shopping earlier in the week, but he picked up an extra shift instead. Part of the reason he’d suggested a movie in the first place tonight was so they wouldn’t have to scrounge food up at home.
As he surveys his options, the blue box stands out, tucked far in the corner. Mac & cheese. It was one of the only things Eddie could stomach when he first got to El Paso. Easy and mindless to cook, cheaper than takeout.
Healthy? No. But he figures they could both use some comfort food tonight.
As expected, the meal is finished in no time. He turns off the burner and makes his way to Chris’s room, taking a deep breath before tapping on the door and gently pulling it open to peek his head in.
Chris is sitting on the bed, phone in his hand, mid-laugh,
“—So dumb, Buck, you didn’t—“
He stops talking when he notices Eddie, sending him an apprehensive look.
“Dad’s here.”
He moves over to the bed, squeezing next to Chris so he can fit his face in the frame.
“Hey, Buck.”
“I was just telling Chris about this Scientology documentary I’m watching, but he keeps stopping every two seconds to fact-check me. Your kid’s a menace.”
Chris shrugs,
“You have to admit, sometimes you go a little hard on the hyperbole.”
Eddie hums in agreement,
“Besides, he gets the fact-checking thing from you. If anything, you created your own monster.”
Buck raises his hand to his chest in mock scandalization,
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Eddie hasn’t had any doubts about his feelings for Buck, but as he watches the way he interacts with Chris, it only helps to further solidify them. Buck has so much love to give, and Eddie is eternally grateful that he and Chris get to be on the receiving end of it.
_______________
Buck stays on the phone while they eat, cooking his own much healthier meal as they talk. If Eddie closes his eyes, it’s almost like they’re back home again. All three of them, the way it should always be.
As soon as they hang up the FaceTime, though, the mood in the room shifts. Eddie knows they need to address it, setting his phone against the table and turning to face Chris,
“So, I think you might’ve heard some stuff earlier. Do I have that right?”
Chris just nods, biting his lip, so Eddie continues,
“How much did you hear?”
When Chris speaks, it’s a low mumble,
“Heard you tell them about the will—“ Eddie internally cringes, “—heard them being assholes about you being gay.”
And, yeah. If Eddie had to give someone the Cliff Notes version of that talk, that’s probably how he’d describe it.
Eddie tries to be diplomatic, gentle, but firm,
“Bud, I know you’re upset, but you don’t need to call them that.”
Chris scoffs,
“Yes, I do. Did they really say you’d drag me down?”
Eddie sighs,
“Chris, you were never supposed to hear that conversation. I should’ve been more mindful knowing you’d be back soon.”
“But they did say it right?”
Eddie has two words on a loop in his head: Chris’s voice, no secrets. So Eddie nods,
“Yes.”
Chris raises his eyes to the ceiling, exasperated,
“Then I’m objectively allowed to call them assholes.” His nose scrunches up, “Homophobic assholes too.”
As much as the situation aches, Eddie’s chest grows warm at Chris’s sudden show of protectiveness,
“Look, Chris, I don’t agree with them either, but I think—“ he wrings his hands trying to find the words, “—I think sometimes people are better grandparents than they are parents.”
Chris grumbles as Eddie continues,
“We have a different relationship. And they have a certain idea of me in their heads. So, it’s hard for them to hear that I’m gay.”
Chris’s face scrunches up,
“Why?”
Eddie rubs a hand across his jaw,
“When I was growing up, I tried to make myself into what they wanted me to be. I went to the army and I married your mom and had you, which I would never regret, but I also kept a lot of myself locked up.” He sighs, “So this is the first time I’m letting them see me for me.”
Chris huffs,
“Well, still. It’s messed up. And they shouldn’t talk about Buck the way they were, either. He’s—“ Chris seems to be searching for a term he can’t find, “—he’s Buck. They don’t know anything.”
Eddie has to rein in a smile at that,
“Yeah, I know. But we know. We know what we are to each other. That’s what matters.”
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie’s face twists in confusion as Chris continues,
“I didn’t know things were like that with you guys when I called them. I wasn’t trying to hurt—“ he sighs, “—I mean I was trying to hurt you, but not— I wouldn’t have gone with them if I knew.”
Before Eddie can speak, Chris is already amending his statement,
“Okay, no. I probably still would’ve. I was really angry. If I thought it would hurt you enough, I would’ve.”
Chris looks apologetic, practically cringing as he says the words, but Eddie won’t let him beat himself up about something Eddie’s actions caused.
“Bud, I get it. I’m not upset, remember?”
It’s not the first time they’ve gone over this, but, understandably, it would come back up now that Chris is seeing his grandparents in a new context,
“I mean, the logic makes sense. I hurt you, you wanted me to feel as bad as I made you feel.”
Chris nods, confirming Eddie’s theory,
“Yeah.”
Eddie sets a hand against his shoulder with a squeeze,
“But hey, we’re together right now. We had to do a lot of work to get here, but we made it to the place we’re supposed to be.”
A peculiar look crosses Chris’s features, there and gone before Eddie can decipher it,
“Yeah, I guess you're right.”
Eddie grins,
“I usually am.”
Chris scoffs, shoving him playfully before Eddie reaches across to pull him into a quick squeeze, lips pressed against the top of his head.
Together, finally, albeit minus one, but still together. As close as Eddie is going to get to perfect.
_______________
“She said you were being crass?”
Eddie hums, his nod slow and sleepy.
Buck is all sarcasm,
“And I’m sure she’d say the same thing if you were talking about kissing a woman, right?”
“I didn’t even bring that point up. Too easy. She wouldn’t get it anyway.”
Buck sighs, deep and heavy,
“Is it fucked up if I say I hate your parents?”
Eddie huffs, as close to a laugh as he can get with how drained he feels right now.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate their kid-making ability. They made one of my favorite people, and you made my actual favorite person, but—“ Buck shrugs, “Still hate them on principle for everything else besides that.”
At his words, Eddie feels a sharp tug in his chest, his heart leaping like it’s trying to reach LA and nestle beside Buck’s.
“I mean, if we’re talking about people we hate, I gotta be real, there are two Buckleys at the top of my list and you know they aren’t you or Maddie.”
Buck laughs, and Eddie gets a sudden urge to record it. Play it over and over.
He almost slips up, almost breathes out, I love your laugh. But he knows he won’t be able to stop there if he says that.
There’s a never-ending list of things he loves about Buck. If the floodgates open, Eddie’s not confident in his ability to close them.
“Okay, we’re even then. We can both hate each other's parents.”
“Deal.”
Buck just looks at him for a minute, his eyes softening, “Hey, you know I’m really proud of you, right?”
Eddie has to gnaw at the inside of his cheek to ward off what he’s sure would be a lovesick, obvious expression,
“Yeah, I know.”
Buck hums,
“Good.”
_______________
Oddly, when Eddie gets up the next morning, Chris is already awake and sitting on the couch in the living room,
“Chris?” Eddie speaks through a yawn, “Do you have plans I forgot about?”
Chris’s head snaps up as soon as he hears Eddie’s voice,
“No, no plans.”
Eddie scrubs a hand across his face, curiously teasing,
“You realize it’s 7:00 in the morning on a Saturday, right?”
Chris nods,
“Yeah.”
Eddie shakes his head with an amused laugh,
“Okay, who are you and what did you do with my kid?”
Chris’s next words rush out of him in one breath, mumbled too fast for Eddie to work out,
“Iwanttogohome.”
Eddie quirks his eyebrow,
“What was that?”
Chris takes a steadying breath, hands clenched where they rest on his knees,
“I want to go home.”
When the words register, Eddie does his best not to let his disappointment show on his face, though he’s not sure he succeeds,
“Oh—that’s—okay, sure. It’s a little early, but how about we get some breakfast and then I can drop you at Abuela’s when we’re done?”
Christopher’s expression shifts, a pinch between his brows,
“No, Dad. I want to go home.”
Eddie knows he should respond. Or at least give a nod of acknowledgment, but at the words, his entire body freezes up. Chris clarifying,
“To LA. I want to leave.”
It’s what Eddie’s been dying to hear for months, but hearing it now feels unearned. He doesn’t want Chris to come home just because Eddie’s actions forced his hand, not when that’s how they got in this mess in the first place.
He moves toward the couch to sit next to Chris, resting a hand on his shoulder,
“Look, I know things sounded bad with your grandparents yesterday, but I promise you we’re going to be fine. I’m not going to let this affect your relationship, okay? Nothing has to change.”
Chris heaves a heavy sigh,
“Dad, would you just listen to what I’m saying for once instead of jumping to your own made-up conclusion?”
Eddie’s mouth snaps shut at that, nodding to let Chris know to continue,
“I’m not doing this because of that. Or—“ he shrugs, “—I’m not doing it just because of that. I’ve wanted to leave since like two weeks after I got here.”
Eddie feels like the breath has been knocked out of his lungs,
“What? Chris, why didn’t you—“
Chris sighs again,
“I thought you’d come get me. But then you just showed up here after months, and told me you already rented a place. You didn’t even give me a chance to say anything.”
He wanted to come home after two weeks? Eddie could’ve had him all this time?
The idea that his cowardice prolonged both of their suffering for so long is enough to make Eddie sick,
“Mijo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I should’ve talked to you.”
Chris laughs dryly,
“Yeah, probably.” His face falls, “Last night when you talked about us being where we’re supposed to be— we’re not.”
He says it so definitively, a fact not at all up for debate,
“We’re supposed to be home with Buck. And after everything with Abuela and Abuelo yesterday, I just—I’m tired of waiting. I’d rather be there right now, okay?”
He tries to clear the tightness out of his throat, but it’s a useless effort, eyes swimming with tears in seconds, voice shaky,
“Okay, yeah.” A resolved nod of his head, “Yeah.”
He doesn’t realize how much the conversation affects Chris until he turns to look at him and sees how watery his own eyes have gotten, a mirror of Eddie’s.
Chris nods with a slight sniffle, wiping underneath his eyes,
“Cool.”
Then, so quickly that Eddie doesn’t even register it happening, Chris plasters himself to Eddie in a tight squeeze. He’s frozen for a few seconds in shock before his body gets with the program and reciprocates.
Chris’s voice comes out wobbly as he speaks against the skin of his neck from where he’s tucked himself in,
“I really missed you. Texas kind of sucks.”
Eddie presses his lips to Chris’s hair, speaking in a light, low tone,
“Me too, kid. So much.”
He’s not sure how long they sit like that, Eddie refusing to let go until Chris makes it known he wants to separate, but eventually Chris does pull back with a watery laugh,
“Buck is gonna freak.”
And, it’s not that Eddie hasn’t thought about this. Going home. Seeing Buck again since he’s had his big love revelation, it’s just that it had seemed so far away. Just an idea in his head, something to fantasize about when sleep evaded him.
Now, it’s a reality. Something that should be sending Eddie into a deep well of self-doubt and panic, but as he thinks about it now, he can’t find it in himself to be scared. Just like when he’d sat with his sisters and come to this conclusion, the only thing he feels is settled. Sure of himself and his feelings.
“Hey,” Chris grins, mischievous, “We should surprise him. Just show up at the house or something.”
Eddie laughs at the thought of it, picturing Buck’s face with a soft smile,
“Yeah, I like that idea.”
_______________
As much as he dreads the conversation with his parents, he knows it’s best to get it over with. The sooner he deals with it, the sooner they can leave. The sooner they can get home to Buck.
All in all, it’s not going to be as quick a process as he wishes it were. They still need to deal with Chris’s school, transferring back. Packing up all the things he brought over in the U-haul only a few months ago.
He’ll need to talk to Bobby too. Verify whether or not he truly still has a spot at the 118 waiting for him, though he doesn’t doubt it; confirmation is still needed.
Talking to his parents is the first step. Once he does this, it’s full speed ahead as far as he’s concerned. So, with that in mind, it’s a little easier to make the drive over. Chris at his side, a steady presence,
“Dad, if you grip the steering wheel any tighter, you’re gonna cut off the circulation in your fingers.”
The words manage to bring Eddie back to the present, taking one hand off the wheel to flex his fingers. He hasn’t realized how tense he is until he’s forced to focus on it.
Faster than he’d like, they’re pulling into his parents’ driveway, Eddie turning the car off as he faces Chris,
“Okay, game plan. Go to your room after you say hi, okay? You can box some stuff up while I deal with them.”
Chris nods with a smirk,
“You make it sound like we’re going on a top-secret mission.”
Eddie shrugs, an easy grin on his lips,
“Aren’t we? Operation get the hell out of Texas, step one.”
Chris’s laughter is like a balm to the anxiety he’s felt all morning, the last piece of the puzzle he’s needed to force himself out of the car.
To say his mom looks surprised when she opens the door is an understatement. After all, it was only yesterday that she’d said they should take space. The duffle bag and cardboard boxes Eddie is sporting surely only add to the confusion.
She’s always known how to put up a front, though, plaster on a smile, and act as though there are no issues at all,
“What a nice surprise! We weren’t expecting you so early, Chris.”
She sends him a warm glance, a sharp contrast to the cold one she’d just stuck Eddie with seconds earlier.
Chris clears his throat, “Uh—hi Abuela, I’m gonna—“ He grabs the empty duffel bag and makes a move to step into the house, his mom moving easily out of the way and not so subtly blocking Eddie’s own entry as soon as Chris is inside.
She nods toward the closed box Eddie holds at his side,
“Are you bringing his things back?”
Right. She thinks he’s leaving Chris with them while they take time apart. He has to fight an ugly self self-satisfied smirk as he corrects her,
“The opposite, actually. Bringing his stuff back with me.”
She lets out a disbelieving laugh,
“What?”
He nods,
“He wants to come home.”
Her nod is slow and assessing,
“That’s certainly a change from a couple of days ago.”
Eddie shrugs,
“A lot can change when you actually talk things out.”
He can’t stop himself from getting the dig in, and it clearly hits its mark, a flinch, there and gone,
“Well, either way, you should still keep some of his things here for when he wants to stay the night.”
“Doesn’t really make sense to keep anything here when we’ll be in LA.”
He knows his delivery could be nicer, but he can’t find it in himself to soften the blow. Still hardened from their conversation and pent up with anxious energy.
Her face drops at his words, but he doesn’t give her a chance to respond, sliding past her and into the house,
“I’m going to help him pack some stuff up. Might do a run to get some more boxes later.”
“Eddie, you—“
He cuts her off as he walks toward Chris’s room, making eye contact with his father from where he sits in the living room, confused and out of the loop.
“This will be good anyway. You guys wanted space, right?”
He leaves them both to ruminate on his words, turning his focus entirely to Chris. He feels loose and unburdened, something he’s rarely ever felt in this house.
He makes a mental check off on his list, step one done.
_______________
When Buck shows up on his doorstep a week and a half later, Eddie seriously considers the possibility that he might be having a stroke.
In all fairness, the knocking wakes him up from a post-shift nap, so he already feels halfway in a dream. Buck standing there, duffle bag on his shoulder, sunlight streaming over his face, a bead of sweat at his hairline.
Honestly, you can’t blame him for being confused. He’s almost certain he’s dreamt some version of this exact scenario ten times over.
For a few seconds, he just stands there, the door halfway open. Like he’s afraid if he moves, it will all have been a mirage, there and gone again, but then,
“Surprise.”
That’s what kicks Eddie into motion. Buck speaking, swaying slightly back and forth on his feet, a nervous grin creeping up on his face. Here, and beautiful and real.
One second Eddie’s standing stock still in the threshold, and the next he’s catapulted himself into Buck’s arms, practically knocking him off his feet with the force.
His voice is wet when he speaks from where he’s burrowed himself into his neck,
“Buck, what?”
He can’t think of anything else to say beyond that, but he doesn’t have to. Buck fills in the gaps,
“Did you really think you’d be able to pack all your stuff without me? My color coding system works, and we both know you wouldn’t follow it without me and the clipboard.”
Eddie laughs, but it ends up coming out more like a sob,
“Fuck, I missed you so much.”
He pulls back abruptly, then, like his brain has just come back online,
“Wait, how did you— we were going to surprise you.”
Buck’s cheeks tint pink as he looks at Eddie from underneath his lashes, and yeah, Eddie’s still on board with his stroke theory,
“Chris wanted to surprise you instead. He was a double agent.”
Eddie pulls him in again, a tight squeeze, swaying back and forth,
“You’re— I love you.”
It just slips out, a breath of awe, but from his tone, Eddie knows Buck doesn’t take it in the way he means it,
“Love you too.”
They’ve been saying it to each other since he left. It’s an easy out, one that Eddie decides to take, at least for now. He’s not entirely sure he wants his love confession to spill when he’s half awake and too drowsy to get his words out the way he wants to.
As soon as he has the thought, it’s obvious, inevitable, that he’ll be telling Buck how he feels. Whether that’s today or months from now.
Looking at him, skin golden from the sun, warm fondness all directed straight at Eddie, how could he not?
He thinks back to Adriana’s words from what feels like so long ago now:
‘Even if he doesn’t feel the same, he’s not going to leave. You guys are too solid for anything to ruin your friendship.’
He knows without having to consider it that it’s the truth. Buck would never let Eddie’s feelings stand in between them. He’d never let things sit long enough to be awkward. He’d be so kind about the whole thing, even if he didn’t reciprocate anything.
“You gonna let me in? I need a real tour. No FaceTime buffering included.”
Eddie’s sure his face must be betraying all of his thoughts, but he’s too giddy to reel it in, taking loose hold of Buck’s wrist, loath to part from him now that he’s finally back in his orbit, and pulling him into the apartment.
_______________
Watching Buck and Chris reunite is enough to leave Eddie feeling flayed open, trying and failing to fight back tears when he sees Buck’s own fall just at the sight of him in the school parking lot.
“God, Buck, I can’t breathe.”
Buck laughs, a wet, broken open thing,
“Tough shit. I’m not letting go for at least two days.”
Eddie lets out a breath of amusement, swiping stealthily underneath his eyes as he watches them from the driver's seat.
“Two days? Nah, you and Dad would miss each other too much. You’re like magnets.”
Eddie is suddenly eternally grateful that Buck is turned away from him and that the Texas heat provides an easy alibi for the flush taking over his face.
To his surprise, though, Buck does nothing to deny the accusation,
“Who says this isn’t a group hug situation? I’m sure we can squeeze him in.”
Eddie’s heart skips in his chest, a warmth spreading all through his limbs. Jesus, he’s such a cliche, and he’s too in love to care.
He distracts himself with his thoughts for a minute and misses the rest of the conversation before Buck’s head pops up between the front seats,
“Sorry, Eds, you gotta chauffeur. I need to sit next to my favorite Diaz.”
Eddie gives an exaggerated show of exasperation, but the smile on his face ruins the delivery,
“Just so we’re clear, the second we’re back in LA, I’m out of the driver's seat for the foreseeable future.
Buck grins, eyes teasing,
“How have you survived without me for this long?”
Chris snorts,
“He hasn’t. You guys talk to each other every day. You’re the only person he texts.”
Eddie squawks,
“He’s not the only person.” A slow smile grows on his lips, “I text you too.”
Chris rolls his eyes playfully,
“Oh, okay cool. That makes it better.”
As Buck and Chris fall into laughter together, Eddie can’t even pretend to be offended, so deliriously grateful to hear the sound in person.
He’s never considered himself to be much of a lucky person. Today though? Today, he’s the luckiest person in the world.
_______________
“You happy?”
Chris’s voice makes Eddie jump from where he’s been hunched over, filling up a box of things from the living room.
It’s the first time they’ve been alone since Buck got here, Eddie forcing him into the first shower after hours of Buck’s perfected packing system and checklists.
Eddie hums as he moves closer to Chris, ruffling his hair,
“Course I am, you little sneak. Good job on the surprise.”
Chris clears his throat with an apprehensive smile,
“You should tell Buck that.”
“Tell him what?”
When Eddie raises his eyes to meet Chris’s gaze, he looks less than impressed,
“That he makes you happy.”
The duh after those words is unspoken but heavily implied in Chris’s expression.
Eddie’s face twists, heart rate speeding up,
“He knows that already.”
Chris sighs,
Dad, C’mon.”
And, okay, logically, he knows Chris is fourteen now, not four. It would make sense for him to pick up on some context clues. It’s not like Eddie’s been great at controlling his reactions as far as Buck is concerned.
Still, they’ve only just reached steady ground. He doesn’t want to do anything to mess with that at all, but especially not until they’re home. Solid and together. He promised not to lie to him, so redirection seems like the easiest tactic.
“Did you finish up in your room? You know Buck’s gonna be on you about it as soon as he’s out of the shower.”
Chris doesn’t play along, ignoring Eddie’s blatant attempt to change the subject,
“Look, I don’t care if that’s what you’re worried about. You guys already act like a couple anyway.”
Eddie sucks in a breathe at that,
“Chris—“
Before he can take the conversation any further, Buck pops around the corner, drying his hair with a towel,
“What’d I miss?”
Chris looks like he’s trying not to laugh,
“I was just reminding Dad I have plans tonight. I’m staying over at my friend Mateo’s house.”
At the mention of the plans, something clicks in Eddie’s head, a conversation from a few days ago, Chris asking Eddie’s permission to plan something with one of his friends from the chess club.
Eddie freezes up, shooting Chris a crazed look. He planned this. There’s no other explanation. Chris has been dying to see Buck, he wouldn’t skip out on their first night together just for a sleepover.
“And I was just telling Chris that he can reschedule. You just got here, Mateo will understand why he has to cancel.”
Eddie should know better, though, Buck immediately shaking his head,
“Hey, no. It’s fine, bud. Don’t cancel for me. We’ll have plenty of time to hang out now that you’re coming home.”
Eddie knows his kid, and the look on his face right now is as close to smug as he’ll get with plausible deniability,
“See, Dad? Buck’s fine with it. Besides that way you guys can go—“ he pauses, gestures oddly, “—hang out, get dinner or whatever.”
Buck follows his lead,
“You heard the man, Eddie, I expect a five-star meal. Best restaurant in town.”
He’s obviously teasing, evident by the twinkle in his eye and the quick wink he sends his way, which leaves Eddie embarrassingly breathless. Needing to take a second before he speaks again,
“Yeah, we can- I know a few places.”
Chris claps his hands together,
“Perfect. Win-win.”
He walks away toward his bedroom and throws his next words over his shoulder,
“Mateo’s mom said she’ll pick me up so you guys can go whenever!”
Eddie isn’t expecting the jostle of Buck’s shoulder into his own, so lost in his thoughts,
“You think he’s being suspicious? Seems like he really wants us to leave.”
No, not suspicious. Eddie thinks. He’s just trying to set us up. Our kid’s a total meddler.
He doesn’t voice any of that, though, just laughs along stiltedly to Buck’s joking. Making a quick excuse of a shower to leave the room, stopping at Chris’s on the way with a knock on the door frame.
Chris grins as soon as he sees him, “You’re welcome.”
Eddie raises his eyes to the ceiling,
“Christopher.”
He shrugs,
“We both know neither of you was gonna do anything. I’m just helping you out.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say any of that.”
Chris giggles,
“Have fun.”
Eddie sighs, moving to shut the door instead of trying to fight him on it any further. Chris gets one last word before he shuts the door,
“Wear your good cologne!”
As soon as Eddie shuts the door, he presses his forehead against the wood, releasing a shaky breath, taking a moment to settle himself and parse out what he’s feeling.
It’s another one of the tactics Wendy taught him for when he starts getting overwhelmed. Giving himself time to analyze his thoughts and emotions instead of letting them race out of control.
For one, he’s happy. He’s so glad to have Buck back. So happy that Chris is coming home. He’s relieved that Chris doesn’t have an issue with him having feelings for Buck, and that he’s encouraging it.
He’s also anxious. He wasn’t expecting it to happen this early. Yes, he doesn’t have to say anything tonight, and maybe he won’t, but the point is, it’s an option.
There’s nothing to stop him, no roadblocks. No 800 miles of distance or the hurdle of having to break the news to Chris. And, as much as it scares him to admit it, he even has a little hope that Buck could be receptive to what he has to say.
He decides he’s going to focus on one thing at a time. There’s no use worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. If he gets to it.
He tries his best to keep his mind blank as he showers and gets ready. Debates how embarrassing it would be to ask Chris’s opinion on his choice of shirt and decides against it. This is Buck. He has nothing to be nervous about. It’s no different than any of the other times they’ve gone out together.
Still, when he spies the bottle of good cologne on the dresser, he follows Chris’s advice and spritzes himself a couple of times before leaving the room.
What could it hurt?
_______________
He doesn’t know many nice restaurants in El Paso. When he’s gone out since moving here, it’s usually just a quick stop for takeout or some place his parents have frequented since he was a kid.
The restaurant Eddie chooses is a place he’s heard some of the guys at the station talk about before. A quick Google lets him know it’s fairly casual. Enough so that it doesn’t feel strictly like a date spot, but nice enough to warrant the short-sleeved button-down he’s wearing.
It’s packed, which he should’ve expected for a weekend. One side of the restaurant is a low-lit bar where they sit to wait for their table, and Eddie’s been trying and failing to ignore the way the blue of Buck’s shirt brings out his eyes since the second he sat down.
His gaze constantly flits back and forth between the menu he’s pulled up on his phone and the sight of Buck a few feet away at the bar where he stands to order their drinks. From this vantage point, it’s so easy to picture a younger version of Buck out at the bars, charming anyone he wanted.
Tonight, though, taking notice of the people making eyes at him, the woman he’s speaking to now with an easygoing grin does nothing to unsettle him. No jealousy or insecurity, because at the end of the night, he knows Buck is coming home with him.
Buck flew 800 miles just to help him move, just because his kid asked him to. He could pick out the sound of Eddie’s voice in a crowd with world record speed. He knows the annoyingly particular way he prefers his eggs and his favorite brand of laundry detergent.
Someone at a bar wouldn’t be able to replicate what they have, even with years of practice. If anything, each of their relationships has only further proven that. So Eddie sits back, content to wait. The grin Buck shoots him over his shoulder as he meets his eyes is just a bonus.
Of course, when Eddie gets too comfortable, that’s when things tend to get flipped on their head.
“Diaz?”
Eddie stills, joints locking up abruptly in a wave of low-grade panic,
“Oh—hey! Small world.”
Small world? Not exactly considering Jack was one of the people Eddie’s heard speak the most about this restaurant.
Why hadn’t he thought this through?
He attempts a friendly smile, as he turns to greet his coworker and hopes his face isn’t playing out his current inner monologue of: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck my fucking life.
“What’s got you out on a Friday night?”
It’s a valid question considering he’s only gone out with the team two times since moving here, and one of those was spent drunk, crying over the love of his life. Eddie’s not exactly known for being a fun time as far as they’re concerned.
“Oh uh—“
Eddie is racking his brain, trying to come up with a way to get Jack to leave before Buck comes back, but it’s a useless effort, as Buck makes his way over with their drinks at that exact second.
“Oh. I get it now.” Jack’s voice is teasing, a sly grin taking over his features, “Your man’s finally back in town.”
Eddie's throat is dry in his panic, and he wishes desperately for a glass of water. That, or a time machine.
Buck lights up with a smile as soon as he reaches him, setting their beers down and side-eying Jack. He doesn’t recognize him, going to introduce himself with an outstretched hand,
“Hey, I’m Buck.”
Eddie has to clear his throat before he can speak,
“You’ve met. This is uh—my coworker Jack. FaceTime, remember?”
Buck meets his eyes for a split second, and just from that look, Eddie knows they’re on the same page.
A beaming, bright grin flits on Buck’s face, genuine even with the short notice to conjure it,
“Of course, yeah! So great to meet you in person, man.”
As soon as he drops his hand, Buck goes to sit next to Eddie on the couch, closer than he had been before but admittedly not by much; they’ve always been tactile.
He moves to snake his arm around the back of the couch, settling a thumb against the back of Eddie’s neck, a steady pressure. Embarrassingly lovesick, he has to fight back a contented sigh as he lets himself sink into the touch, leaning into Buck’s hold.
“Adam’s going to be so excited to meet you. He’s just gone to the restroom. We’ve been waiting for a table for fuckin’ ever.” Jack pauses with a chuckle, “Though, with how much Eddie talks about you, we pretty much know you already.”
Eddie can feel his face heating up, reaching for a sip of his drink as Buck turns to look at him,
“Trust me, it’s mutual. I never shut up about him either.”
The fondness dripping off Buck’s voice is enough to have Eddie’s stomach swoop; he knows it’s the truth. Not something said just for show. He’s heard enough about it from the rest of the 118 throughout his time away.
Adam makes his way over a couple of minutes later, pulling both of them into a hug and immediately taking to Buck, just like every other person he’s ever met.
The conversation is easy between the four of them, and Buck makes their facade of a relationship easy too. He’s pressed all along Eddie’s side, hand tangled with his own. Quick little inserts of pet names to truly sell it, that have Eddie’s heart lurching in his chest each time he hears them.
By the time Jack and Adam get called away to their table and say their goodbyes, Eddie feels like he’s on a hair trigger. Buck still hasn’t let go of his hand despite the fact that they’re alone, and it’s hell on Eddie’s nerves.
He’s just continuing on, talking a mile a minute about his latest Wikipedia rabbit hole the way he always does, as if the way his thumb is rubbing against the back of Eddie’s hand is a normal occurrence. Instinctive, nothing to write home about.
Eddie doesn’t even know he’s going to say anything until he’s already speaking,
“We need to leave.”
Buck’s eyebrows knit together in confusion,
“We haven’t eaten yet.”
But Eddie doesn’t acknowledge the words, just reaching to pull Buck up and toward the exit with their still joined hands.
As soon as they make it out the door, Eddie lets go, walking briskly toward the parking lot, Buck rushing to keep up with an amused laugh.
“Dude, what the hell? I’m starving.”
He’s not upset, just deeply confused, and Eddie can’t exactly blame him.
Eddie just continues his trek, not looking back, trying to get home as fast as possible, but as soon as they get to the car, Buck sets a hand on his bicep, turning him around to face him and grabbing the keys out of his hand before he can blink.
His earlier teasing tone evolves into one of concern,
“Hey. Talk to me, Eds. What’s going on?”
When Eddie doesn’t respond after a few seconds, the gears start turning in Buck’s head, so completely off base,
“Was I making you uncomfortable? I thought—I mean, you wanted them to think we were together, right?” He pauses, face crumpling, “God. I should’ve asked you, I’m so sorry, I just thought—“
Eddie can’t handle hearing anymore of Buck’s unearned self-flagellation, blurting out,
“I had a plan.”
The words only add to Buck’s confusion, but they at least stop his train of thought,
“What?”
Eddie sighs, looking up to the sky, unable to meet Buck’s eyes if he wants to get any of this out.
“I had a plan. I was trying to take you out on a date. Or—I mean, I don’t know, I was going to feel it out and then, depending on that, tell you how I felt, and maybe kiss you if you wanted me to, but then—“
Buck sucks in a breath repeating,
“What?”
Eddie can barely hear him, spilling out his mess of a speech in one run-on sentence, unstoppable now that he’s started,
“—Jack just showed up, which I guess I should’ve expected considering my luck and the fact I got the restaurant idea from him, and then you were holding my hand and being so sweet, and you’re wearing blue, and I just—I love you. I’m in love with you, and I’m sick of you not knowing it.”
He pauses, wincing, “I was also trying to get us home, so I didn’t tell you I love you for the first time in a fuckin’ parking lot. And this is going to be a really uncomfortable car ride if this doesn’t go the way I’m hoping it will, but—“ he shrugs, finally trailing off.
Buck’s eyes are wide, jaw slack,
“You were going to kiss me?”
Eddie huffs, chest still heaving from his exertion and adrenaline,
“Only if you wanted me to. I wasn’t gonna like— ambush you or something.“
Buck's words are breathy when he finally speaks,
“You can ambush me. I mean—I want you to.”
Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach,
“What?”
“Do you want me to pretend I didn’t hear any of that so you can tell me at home? I’m totally on board with the plan. Just a little slow on the uptake.”
Eddie lets out a disbelieving laugh,
“Kind of, yeah. Is that crazy?”
Buck giggles, a bright, bubbly thing that transforms his entire face,
“Kind of yeah. But like I said, very on board with this.”
He feels giddy as he watches Buck make a show of trying to school his face into something normal when he turns to face Eddie again,
“Pizza sound good for dinner? We have a few beers left in the fridge, I think.”
And with those words, just like that, things are how they’ve always been. Buck and Eddie, best friends. A normal end to a normal night out, both of them making their way home together.
It’s a simple process to slip back into their usual roles, though he supposes that makes sense. It’s what they are and always will be, first and foremost, before anything else— best friends.
Even still, the tension is thick in the air as they drive, constantly flitting their eyes back and forth between each other when they think the other isn’t looking.
Eddie can’t stop drumming his fingers against his thigh in a quick rhythm, one hand on the steering wheel, a manifestation of his pent-up anxiety. He doesn’t stop until Buck reaches across to settle a hand against his own at a red light with a squeeze.
He’s quick to move his hand away after that, continuing with his story of the older woman he’d met on the flight over, like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Grin barely concealed at Eddie’s sharp intake of breath.
He feels the phantom warmth of Buck’s hand for the rest of the drive.
By the time they pull into the complex, Eddie feels so wound up that he’s sick with it. He flexes his hands at his sides to try to expel some of his nervous energy as they get into the elevator, throat dry and pulse out of control.
His hands shake embarrassingly as he tries to fit his key into the lock, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. Buck kindly pretends not to notice, settling his hand against Eddie’s, taking the key and opening the door without missing a beat.
Buck walks a few steps ahead, flipping on the lights and continuing his earlier train of thought,
“—And I don’t get how you’re still anti-pineapple on pizza. You’re 33 years old, at a certain point that’s just—“
His words stop abruptly when Eddie steps closer, warm intention in his gaze,
“That’s just what?”
Buck shakes his head, waving a hand out to gesture toward him,
“You can’t expect me to carry on a conversation if you’re gonna stand this close looking at me like that.”
Eddie couldn’t hold back his smile even if he wanted to,
“Pretty sure I always look at you this way, bud.”
Buck scoffs, taking a few steps closer despite his earlier protest,
“Well, bud, I didn’t know you were in love with me all the other times it happened, did I?”
Eddie has already said the words out loud tonight. Buck knows that he’s in love with him now. Factually, he understands that’s a thing that’s happened.
Even still, hearing Buck state it so plainly, especially the enthusiastic grin that follows the words, has something tugging insistently at his heart.
“Hey,” Eddie teasingly scolds, “You don’t know that yet, remember? We’re sticking to the original plan.”
Buck is very obviously trying to bite back a grin, but it’s no use. He’s never been able to put up any sort of front with Eddie,
“Can we get the plan started then? Cause I keep hearing about it, but I’ve yet to see—“
Eddie closes the little remaining distance left between them, settling his hands against Buck’s jaw and pressing him against the back of the front door with a firm press of lips.
It’s a chaste thing. Just a few seconds of warm pressure and a noise of surprise from the back of Buck’s throat before Eddie pulls away and takes a step back.
He clears his throat, unable to fight the happiness that floods through him as he looks at Buck, lips pursed and eyes closed.
“How’s that for step one?”
Buck is still up against the door when he responds, voice breathy and wide-eyed,
“Technically, I think that was step two. Date was step one.”
Eddie teases easily,
“Oh, I’m sorry. Should we get the clipboard out?” He points his thumb back in the direction of the growing stacks of moving boxes, “We can check off the steps as we go if you want.”
Buck pulls him in by his belt loops with a fond eye-roll, surging forward to kiss him. Eddie’s laughing too much to reciprocate anything, and Buck’s lips end up landing awkwardly against the sharp edge of his canine, which only serves to make him laugh harder.
Buck pulls back, pressing their foreheads together and scrunching up his nose, embarrassed,
“That didn’t count.”
In all of the million and one ways Eddie has pictured this going, he never imagined it like this. It was always serious and passionate in his fantasy. Smooth and romantic with no missteps.
The reality of it ends up silly and sweet instead. Eddie’s having fun. It clicks then that he’s having fun because it’s Buck. He’s having fun because at the end of the day, the person he’s kissing is his best friend.
He doesn’t have to put on a practiced show of perfect romance. They can laugh and stumble their way through it, and that makes it all even better than anything his brain could conjure up.
Eddie turns his head to press his lips to Buck’s wrist from where it frames his face,
“You wanna try again?”
This time, when Buck presses their lips together, they’re both prepared, letting out twin sighs of contentment the second Buck deepens it with a thumb pressed to Eddie’s chin.
Eddie knew objectively that Buck must be a good kisser. Single-minded, focused solely on his partner, it only made sense. Knowing it and experiencing it, though, are two different things.
Buck licks against the seam of his lips, tentatively, and Eddie accepts it eagerly. A whine slipping out as Buck licks behind his teeth that he’d be embarrassed to make with anyone else.
He tries to give as good as he’s getting, pressing his body flush against Buck’s and reciprocating with deep sucking kisses, his lips numb and buzzing. He moves his hands to Buck’s hair, scratching at his scalp.
Eddie’s nail snags on a curl, and Buck goes boneless and pliant in seconds. A surprise to both of them, letting out a moan of appreciation as Eddie’s arms wind tight around his waist to keep him upright.
Only when it’s absolutely necessary does Buck force himself back to catch his breath, chest heaving. Eddie takes the opportunity to kiss his cheek and jaw, as he migrates over to his neck, digging his nose into the dip there with a low hum.
“Missed the way you smell.”
Eddie’s brain feels slow and syrupy, drunk on the proximity of Buck, so it takes him a second to realize what he’s just admitted out loud, wincing,
“Sorry. Is that weird? I just mean it’s like comforting. Familiar.”
He shouldn’t have been worried, though. Like everything, Buck just takes it in stride,
“I knew it. You do like the strawberry body wash.”
Eddie has always teased him about using it, compared it to the stuff he’d used on Chris as a kid, but it’s always been with warm eyes and a badly concealed fondness.
He digs his nose further into Buck then, like if he tries hard enough, he can somehow hide away, groaning in embarrassment,
“I take it back. Shut up.”
Buck tugs loosely on his hair to extricate Eddie from his hiding spot and places a sweet kiss on his cheek as they meet eyes,
“You’re one to talk. You think you missed the way I smelled?”
He lowers his nose to Eddie’s neck now, switching their places, and taking a deep, playful whiff,
“Eddie,” he whines, whines, because the universe is apparently trying to kill him and they’ve sent one Evan Buckley to finish the job, “You’re wearing your good cologne. I’ve been trying not to sniff you like a freak all night.”
The confession elicits a bark of laughter, Buck following suit until they’re just a mess of giggles, pressed close and clinging to each other. Buck leaves a flurry of kisses all across his face in the chaos, pulling back with a broad smile,
“I love you.”
Eddie is completely deliriously happy, so naturally, the words fall out, a product of his environment and the warm, glowing ball of sunlight currently taking residence in his chest.
“I love you, too. So much.”
Buck makes a big show of his reaction,
“Phew, I was worried there for a second. Wasn’t sure how this top secret plan was gonna end.”
Eddie snorts,
“Dork.”
_______________
Hours later, Eddie lies with his head against Buck’s chest in a boneless heap, sated and more content than he can ever remember being before.
Buck’s hand sweeps up and down Eddie’s back in a conscious gesture. Knowing without Eddie having to say anything that he needs the skin-to-skin contact, the steady pressure of Buck’s lips against his temple as they come down.
When Eddie speaks up, it’s a low mumble, the words pressed against Buck’s skin,
“If I say something really sappy, do you promise not to make fun of me for it?”
He knows Buck won’t make fun of him. It’s not a real concern, but he still feels like he needs to say it anyway.
Buck hums,
“Promise.”
Eddie places a kiss against Buck’s chest, right near his heart,
“Sometimes I feel like—“
He pauses, shakes his head, and Buck makes a questioning noise, raising his fingers to his lips to kiss his knuckles.
“Tell me, please?”
Eddie digs his forehead into Buck’s side, letting out an uneasy laugh,
“I don’t know why I feel—I’m shy. It’s so stupid. It’s just you.”
Buck rubs his thumb against the dip of Eddie’s waist, voice warm,
“When I stayed at your place after I fucked up my ankle I stole one of your t-shirts from the back of the closet and didn’t wash it for an embarrasing amount of time just cause it smelled like you.”
It’s the last thing Eddie expects him to say, and it startles a chuckle out of him,
“Actually?”
Buck presses a grin against his temple,
“Actually. See? Nothing to be shy about when it’s us. Do your worst.”
Eddie sighs, powering through, grateful for the way Buck can get him to open up better than anyone else in the world,
“It kind of feels like I’ve known you forever sometimes. Not in like— like-a cheesy way, just—I feel like you’ve always been here, waiting for me. Or with me. Even before I knew you or you knew me.”
Buck doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Eddie bites his lip in anticipation,
“I don’t know, told you it was really sappy.”
Buck clears his throat, and when he responds, his voice is thick,
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, I think.”
When Eddie finally raises his eyes, Buck is already looking down at him, the love in his gaze enough to knock the air out of his lungs,
“Yeah?”
Buck nods,
“Yeah,” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, “—And I have been, for the record—with you the whole time. Same way you were with me.”
Eddie feels a familiar sting in his nose, eyes watering,
“Thanks for waiting for me.”
Buck’s not fairing much better, swiping at his nose with a sniffle,
“Best thing I ever did.”