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“I just don’t understand what Buck saw in him.” Eddie lamented as Karen topped off his glass. “I mean, yeah, he might have his pilot’s license, but what else is there really? He doesn’t actually listen, he just throws money at people!” He spread his arms wide, wine sloshing dangerously close to the lip of the glass.
“Mhm, I can see that.” Karen agreed after she took a sip from her own glass.
“You know, he went after me first. Flew me to a ringside fight, but the bastard had the audacity to tell me to suck it up when I started having a panic attack in the helicopter! I had to get an Uber home.” Eddie gulped down half his cup before he continued. “And then there was the whole basketball thing! He tried to kiss me when he took me home from the hospital when I messed up my ankle. When I told him I wasn’t interested, he stormed off! Lo and behold, next thing I hear is that he kissed Buck that night!”
“Now that’s a dick move.” Karen hiccuped. “I may be a lesbian, but I know a dick move when I hear one.”
“Right? And then he treated Buck like shit! Like, for their six month anniversary, he bought Laker’s tickets for the two of them.”
“Even I know Buck hates basketball!” Karen exclaimed.
“Exactly! And then, while I was gone, Buck told me he got drunk and hooked up with the guy again! In my bedroom!” Eddie downed the rest of his drink. “It just makes me wish I could punch Tommy’s face right in his stupid nose.”
“You know, it kinda sounds like you’re jealous.”
Eddie frowned at the suggestion. “What do you mean, jealous? I don’t get jealous.”
“Well, Hen told me you looked envious of the dog Buck brought into the firehouse.” She shrugged, hiding a smirk behind her drink.
“It- No, it…” He sputtered. He blinked and shook his head, far too inebriated for this conversation.
“Are you in love with Buck?”
Eddie narrowly avoided doing a spit take all over the Wilson’s very nice rug. “What!?” He yelled between coughs.
“I mean, think about it! You two get kinda weird around each other when one of you is dating somebody else. You already are practically a couple! You hang out together all the time, you bicker like an old married couple, whenever one of you is hurt we all treat you like a grieving widow, you basically co-parent Chris, I mean like… When Ravi first came to one of the family barbecues, he asked me if you guys were secretly married or divorced or something cause he didn’t see any rings.”
He looked at the woman like she had grown a second head.
“That’s… That can’t be true, that’s insane!”
“It wouldn’t be that crazy.” Karen defended, “It sounded to me like you were jealous of Tommy.”
Wasn’t it crazy? Eddie started to think about Buck and his golden brown curls and his vivid blue eyes and his strong jaw and his perfectly kissable lips and-
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
The thought made Eddie’s stomach twist. He dashed to the kitchen’s trash can just as Hen returned from checking on their teenage boys.
“Okay, I think that’s officially enough alcohol for the night.” Hen declared, “C’mon, I’ll drive you home, Diaz.”
Buck had gotten a weird text from Karen.
youu shoulds go to edddies rn
he needs the looovvvveeee
He hadn’t been doing anything important when his phone buzzed, just passively watching the Food Network’s weekly Beat Bobby Flay marathon from his couch in his new apartment. It was lonely, sure, but it seemed somewhat warmer than his old loft.
Tonight was the return of Eddie and Karen’s monthly wine night, a tradition that had been put on pause while Eddie was out of state.
It wasn’t unusual for Buck to get a drunken text from either of them on these occasions, but being asked to check in on Eddie afterwards was a first. Why the message was phrased like it was, Buck had no clue. But, he got in his jeep and made it to Eddie’s home as quickly as he could and let himself in with his key.
He didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he thought he’d find the man passed out somewhere? But laying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling while There is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths played at full volume was not one of the possibilities his brain would’ve conjured up.
“Eddie?” He called over the music.
“Buck?” Eddie’s head tilted slightly, just enough to see Buck as he approached.
He didn’t have pants on. Buck noticed them haphazardly tossed in the corner of the room. Eddie was only wearing his socks, underwear, and an olive green henley. His cheeks were pink, alcohol clearly still coursing through his system, especially considering the two empty beer bottles left on the coffee table.
It wasn’t terribly different from the day Buck had gotten broken up with and found Eddie reenacting Risky Business. This scene, however, looked far less joyous.
“Are you ok?” He asked, looking down. In all the years he had known Eddie, Buck didn’t think he’d ever seen him lay on the floor like this.
“Why are you…?” Eddie asked slowly, slurring his words slightly.
“Here? Karen texted me.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, “And Hen too.”
You might want to check on Eddie. Apparently he and Karen went through a bottle and a half of wine by themselves. He seemed okay but he was upset about something when I was driving him home.
Buck replied with a short Already here, thanks before turning back to the man in question.
“Alright, time to get you up and in bed, how does that sound?” Eddie grumbled something in Spanish, but held out his hand. Buck grabbed it instantly and tried not to focus too hard on the warmth emanating from the brunet’s skin as he pulled him up. “Okay, slow and steady there, big guy.”
“You’re the big guy,” Eddie spoke as he stumbled forward into Buck’s chest.
“We can share the title.” Buck compromised.
Once Eddie was mostly standing on his own, his deep brown eyes stared at him. His pupils were dilated and Buck struggled to avoid getting drawn into the black hole. It was a fruitless effort. Buck had been sucked into Eddie’s orbit since the day they met.
He helped balance the drunken man by keeping his hands on Eddie’s elbows, and in turn, Eddie’s hands found purchase on his biceps. They were close enough that Buck could smell the lingering mix of wine and beer on Eddie’s breath.
The sweeping melody of the song led into the rhythmic electric guitar and drums of I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish.
Eddie’s voice lowered to a near-whisper.
“Why do you have to be a boy?” Eddie breathes, almost like he isn’t talking to Buck at all, but praying to some higher, cosmic entity. “Why does it have to be you?”
Buck’s brows drew together. Eddie’s face remained relaxed, open, pink-tinted lips parted into a soft ‘o’ shape.
Eddie’s eyes trailed down, landing on Buck’s mouth and staying there.
“Eds, what does that mea-”
Lips crashed into his own before he could finish voicing his question. A little off-center, a little uncoordinated, but still better than Buck could’ve ever imagined. His hands found Eddie’s waist on instinct as Eddie cupped Buck’s face between his palms.
The older man began moving backward, stumbling further into the hallway. Buck followed, pulled by his gravity.
The second the bedroom door closed, Buck was pushed up against it. Eddie’s hands dragged down Buck’s front, pushing up underneath his shirt and raking across his abs for a few moments before deciding that the article of clothing better belonged on the floor.
“Eddie.” Buck croaked out between heavy breaths and lips reconnecting. Eddie didn’t stop. Buck didn’t want him to stop but… “Eddie.”
Buck pushed the man’s chest away from him, just to put some distance between them. God, Eddie looked almost debauched with a few strands of hair falling onto his forehead, lips reddened and glossed with a layer of their shared spit.
“Eddie,” Buck repeated for good measure. It broke his heart to put an end to making out with the man. The only problem was, “You’re drunk.”
The man took a step back, removing his hands from Buck’s body, causing him to shiver at the loss. “Oh.”
“Oh.” Buck echoed. “You… you should go to bed. I- I- I- should go.”
If Buck hadn’t said something, if he hadn’t pushed Eddie away, how much further would they have gone? Would Buck have really taken advantage of his best friend while he was intoxicated?
“Stay.” Eddie choked out.
How was Buck supposed to say no to that? Especially when both Hen and Karen already voiced their concerns for the man.
“I’ll go set up the couch.” His hand had just touched the doorknob when warm fingers wrapped around his wrist.
“Here. With me.” Buck looked back, Eddie’s glassy eyes just inches away. “Please?”
Buck was a weak, weak man.
Eddie’s head hurt like a bitch.
He kept his eyes screwed shut as he tried to recall the events of the night before.
He brought Chris over to the Wilsons so he could have a sleepover with Denny while he had his wine night with Karen. Hen brought him home. He was playing The Smiths for some reason, and then Buck came over and-
The bed moved, jostled by somebody on the other side of the bed.
Eddie’s eyes flung open. He rolled over, looking to his left, just to become faced with the back of his best friend.
The shirtless back of his best friend.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
Shit.
Fuck!
In his foggy memory, he vaguely recalled the feeling Buck’s lips pressed against his own, and now they were in bed together while Eddie’s in his underwear and Buck was shirtless at least. Eddie wouldn’t dare look under the covers. It was Schrodinger’s Boxers. Buck could be clothed or naked and Eddie would never have to know if he never looked but either option was far too much for Eddie to handle.
He fumbled to get out of bed, nearly falling down in a pile of limbs right on the floor. Despite the chaos, Buck, ever the heavy sleeper, let out a hefty snore.
Eddie’s heart twisted at the sound. God, maybe he did love Buck. Well, maybe that was already indicated by him kissing Buck and possibly jumping his bones? Eddie wracked his brain and tried to recall how far things had gone but his mind was blank. He squashed down the twinge of sadness at the thought that he might’ve slept with Buck and not remembered it.
He scrambled to find a pair of pants, put them on, shove his feet into some shoes, and run out the door.
He was driving aimlessly. Anywhere was better than having to look Buck in the eye after last night.
Before he really knew what he was doing, he was parked in front of a Catholic Church.
The last time he found himself at this church (because Eddie doesn’t go to church, he just ends up there) was after the whole dead-wife-doppelganger thing that drove his son to El Paso.
He looked up the towering walls of the building and the intricate stained glass windows.
Growing up, religion had always felt like a cage he needed to escape. Now, he wondered if it was more like a safety net.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Eddie spoke after the sign of the cross in that tiny brown confessional booth. “It’s been, uhhh, a couple months since my last confession.”
“Do you mind if I ask for your name? You don’t have to answer.”
He recognized the voice on the other side of the screen.
“It’s Eddie, we’ve, uh, we’ve met before.”
The priest hummed in understanding, “Your son is in Texas, right?”
“He was.” Eddie corrected. “I moved near my parents for a while, and Chris wanted to live in LA again. We just moved back a few weeks ago.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m sure it’s a gift to have your son back in the same house.”
“Yeah, it- it really is.”
“Well, Eddie, what brings you here today?”
He took a deep breath, glancing upwards. Whether it was to look towards heaven or to keep his tears at bay, he didn’t know.
“I think I might have slept with someone.”
The other side of the confessional was quiet for a moment.
“You… think?”
“I was drunk. I don’t know for sure.” He admitted.
“If… how do I put this…” Father Brian began, “If you did not consent to what happened, that is not a sin, it’s-”
“No!” Eddie said, probably too loud for the privacy of the small room. He lowered his voice as he explained, “If anything, I initiated it. I… I remember kissing him, I just… I don’t know for sure how far it went.”
“Him?” The priest asked.
“Yeah, him.” Eddie’s throat felt like it was closing. He could barely choke out the words.
“May I ask something?” Eddie couldn’t speak without setting free a tidal wave of emotion, but he hummed an affirmative. “Are you here for confession because you might’ve had sex, or because it was with another man?”
Eddie’s efforts were futile. He hung his head and began to cry.
“It is no sin to love someone.”
“He’s… He’s my best friend.” Eddie gasped between stifled sobs. “I don’t know how to love him like that.”
“It sounds like you already do.” He spoke softly. “You just have to let yourself choose joy.”
Buck woke up to an empty bed.
“Eddie?” He called out.
The house was silent.
Buck grabbed his shirt up off of the floor and put it on as he searched the house and sure enough, Buck was alone. Again. In Eddie’s home.
But this wasn’t his house anymore. It never truly was his house, always haunted by the shadows of those who had been hundreds of miles away. But now, Buck wasn’t paying rent anymore, and he had his own apartment to go home to.
It felt dirty, in a sense, to be letting himself out of Eddie’s place. Even though they had only kissed and engaged in some light petting before falling asleep side by side, Buck felt worse than when he used to leave after a one night stand.
Maybe the difference was Eddie. Of course the difference would be Eddie. Nobody else he had ever met in his life would have brought him to his knees to try and dig through 40 feet of mud with his bare hands.
Maybe it was just himself. Maybe it was that all-too-familiar dagger in his chest that screamed unwanted.
“Why does it have to be you?”
Yeah, Buck’s self-esteem was doing great.
Like, would being in love with him really be that bad?
Was it that hard to love him without the influence of alcohol?
It was foolish, really. To think that Eddie would actually love him in that way.
It was foolish to let Eddie kiss him in the first place.
So, Buck went back to his apartment. His cold, lonely, soulless apartment, and started baking to keep his mind from wandering.
He showed up at work the next day with two large platters of cookies and an armful of loaves for his coworkers to ravage at their leisure.
Eddie was late. Just by a few minutes. His hair looked unkempt, his eyes red-rimmed and avoiding contact with Buck at all costs.
Any attempts Buck made at conversation were either avoided or ignored completely.
Since Bobby had retired and Chimney stepped in to fill his shoes, Eddie had been working with Hen more often and Buck with Ravi. It wasn’t unusual for them to be separated on a call, but they always found moments to check in with each other.
Now? They hadn’t spoken a word. Buck hadn’t even got a reply to any of his texts. He was rather miffed about the whole thing, especially after Ravi had leaned over to him while putting equipment back in the engine and quipped “Trouble in paradise?”
When Buck and Eddie promised to always have each other’s backs, Buck never imagined Eddie would come to turn his back on him.
It was fine.
Totally fine.
Buck could tame his emotions, his sadness, his anger, his longing. Stick them in a trash compactor until they were a small cube that could be tossed into the back of his mind.
He grew up with loneliness as a companion.
He could be fine welcoming back his old friend as Eddie created the distance between them.
He could be fine.
He wasn’t fine.
They hadn’t spoken for the entire week.
Buck kept getting texts from everyone they knew, Hen, Chim, Bobby, Karen, even Chris asking what was wrong with Eddie. As if he should know.
He should know. They should be best friends. They should be partners.
But Buck was in the dark like everybody else.
It was by chance that Buck went into a bar the next Friday night.
He just wanted to get out of his too-quiet apartment. Maybe have a beer, people-watch while it passed through his system, and drive back home.
He didn’t get very far.
Eddie sat on a stool, right in the center of the bar top, a bottle in hand. The bartender announced that he was getting cut off, a statement Eddie didn’t take kindly to.
Buck didn’t need alcohol in his system to pluck up the courage to go up to Eddie.
“C’mon, Diaz. You’re going home.” Buck said. Eddie didn’t even glance at him.
“No!” He shouted, “I’m fine, if I want to drink more then, give me another drink, dammit!”
“Eddie. I’m taking you home, now.” Buck demanded, grabbing Eddie’s arm and pulling him off the stool.
The drunken man shouted indistinctly, stumbling. His fist landed on the wooden bar top. The bottle shattered, glass flew across the floor. Eddie’s hand started to bleed.
The bartender started yelling as Buck apologized on his friend’s behalf and yanked him out of the establishment.
“What the hell has gotten into you?!” Buck shouted. The brunet ripped his arm out of Buck’s hold, grabbing the side of the building for support.
“What’s your problem?” Eddie slurred.
“You’re my problem! You’ve spent all week avoiding me after the last time I found you drunk off your ass, and now I have to drag you out of a bar?!”
Eddie’s brows furrowed, his eyes still unfocused and glassy.
“You don’t have to come in and play the handsome knight in shining armor all the time.”
“What, and let you drink yourself to death?” Buck countered. “What about Chris? You’re supposed to be at home with him right now.”
“He’s… he’s at a friend’s.”
Buck’s blood boiled at the hesitation, the uncertainty in the statement. Eddie Diaz may have been many things, but a bad father had never been one of them. Buck made a mental note to text Chris and check up on him later.
Eddie turned green, keeling over into the bushes as his stomach forced out its contents. Buck didn’t want to know how high the man’s blood alcohol level was, he just grabbed Eddie by the shoulders to keep him upright and once the vomiting passed, he bullied Eddie into the passenger seat of the jeep.
The first aid job on Eddie’s hand was rough, but good enough. The adrenaline and anger that coursed through Buck’s body kept his hands from steadying.
It was a long drive back to the Diaz residence. The only sounds were passing traffic and Eddie mumbling under his breath. Buck thought it nearly sounded like a prayer.
He had to practically haul Eddie into the house and onto the couch, the man far too uncoordinated to do it himself.
Buck unceremoniously set a glass of water on the coffee table.
“Drink.” He commanded. Eddie didn’t listen.
He texted Chris.
Just checking in, your dad said you’re at a friend’s house tonight?
Chris immediately replied back.
Yup! We’re at Toby’s mom’s house
Gotcha, have fun. Your dad’s ok, but he’s down for the count tonight. Call me if you need anything, ok?
🫡
Buck pocketed his phone and turned to find wide brown eyes staring at him, still no more coherent than before but slowly filling with tears.
“M’sorry, Buck.” Eddie stood, wobbled, and let Buck catch his arms just like the last night they had been like this. “I- I know I loved Shannon, I had to’ve. But it’s different with you. And- and- m’sorry I don't know how to talk about it. I think… I’m in love with you.”
Buck’s heart soared, those were the words he had been wanting, yearning for, until it plummeted back down towards his stomach at a realization.
“You’re drunk, Eddie.”
Eddie’s lips crashed into Buck’s in response. The kiss was only for a moment as Buck shoved Eddie back and put about three feet of space between them.
The heat of indignation and shame rose up the back of Buck’s neck. His face crumpled at the man he spent so many years thinking he knew inside and out. Tears burned tracks down his cheeks.
“Love me when you’re sober.”
Eddie looked dumbfounded, but Buck couldn’t stick around, he couldn’t stay in that house for another minute.
He turned heel and slammed the front door behind him. He violently dried his tears with the fabric of his sleeve as he threw himself into his jeep.
A knock on the door startled Eddie awake.
His mouth was bone-dry. Pain shot up his back as he tried to move from a night spent on the couch. His hand ached, bandages dug into his palm, he couldn’t clearly remember why. The world was too bright. The pounding on the door caused his head to throb in rhythm.
It took a minute to get his limbs to work together. The world tilted as he got himself upright.
The person just pounded harder. “Eddie!”
In his hungover daze, he couldn’t quite place the voice, but at least it didn’t sound like Buck.
He unlocked the door and squinted against the sunlight.
Bobby Nash stood on his porch with a deep frown, his arms crossed and his stance firm.
“Care to tell me what happened?”
Eddie would rather have been anywhere else than on the receiving end of his retired captain’s glare. Maybe he should’ve let that well swallow him whole. Maybe he should’ve died in that helicopter crash. Maybe he should’ve died with that bullet in his chest. Then his last memory would’ve been reaching for Buck. Regardless, he'd prefer to die twenty times over than be in this situation.
He stuttered, stunned, completely out of his depth. Bobby shouldered his way past Eddie to fully enter the house.
“Sit.” Bobby ordered. Eddie obeyed, sitting on the couch and quickly sobering at the circumstances.
Bobby pulled the armchair closer to face him. Eddie felt like a kid being reprimanded by the principal.
“So?” He prompted.
While avoiding eye contact, Eddie noticed a full glass of water on the coffee table. Buck put it there last night. That he remembered. He chugged half of it before telling Bobby, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Bobby leaned back in the chair and raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “You have no clue why Buck showed up at my door after midnight crying about something that happened between the two of you?”
Eddie swallowed thickly. Forget the confessional, this was his judgement day.
“I was at a bar last night. Buck found me.”
“I heard the bartender had to cut you off.”
Oh shit.
The fuzzy memory came back to him in pieces. Yelling. Buck. Breaking the bottle. Buck taking him home and then-
Eddie was a dead man.
Something must have changed on Eddie’s face for the older man to huff an annoyed sigh.
“Drinking like that isn’t funny. I know how these things go, you know the journey I’ve been on and I don’t want to sit back and watch it happen to you.” He bit.
“No, that’s-, I don’t have a drinking problem. It’s a… different kind of problem.” Eddie weakly defended.
“What kind of problem is it, then?” Bobby’s voice softened only slightly.
Eddie dropped his face into his hands and groaned. “I don’t know!”
“I think you do, Eddie,” Bobby pressed.
“I can’t!”
“Can’t what?”
“Be gay!” Eddie shouted, his heart pounding more rapidly than before. “I can’t…” He whispered, pressure formed behind his eyes which only served to worsen his headache. “What’ll Chris think? What’ll my parents think?”
“Your parents don’t get a say in this type of thing. And Chris has been raised by you. I know for a fact you have taught him to love everyone. He’s never had a problem with Hen and Karen or with Buck, why would he ever have a problem with it?” Bobby reasoned.
“Cause it’s… I loved Shannon, I- I must’ve loved her right? We had Chris and- and I married her, I mean, how could I be… and you know I grew up Catholic, and I was always told that… that being…” He couldn’t force the word out of his throat. “So I can’t. And then it’s Buck, he deserves the world and I can’t… I can’t give him that. I always fuck up my relationships and I can’t do that with him. Chris would hate me, first of all, and Buck’s already dated so many shitty people I can’t be added to that list!”
Bobby’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“With all due respect, Eddie. You’ve already messed up with Buck. Yes, you deserve the time to figure yourself out and decide what you truly want, but you’re playing fast and loose with his heart in the process. You’re getting drunk and telling him you love him just to sober up and act like nothing happened. If you want to avoid being put on that list, you have to clean your act up and show that you care about him. Whether that’s in a platonic or romantic way, you’re not going to find the answer at the bottom of a bottle.”
Eddie nodded, his eyebrows pinched together and he quickly swiped away a tear that escaped with the back of his non-injured hand.
“How do I fix it?”
“You could start with apologizing to my kid.”
All Buck wanted was to be left alone.
He spent the night before crying his eyes out on Bobby and Athena’s couch. He spent his day cooking and baking enough to feed the whole firehouse twice over. He just wanted to spend his evening wallowing with his mediocre first attempt at homemade cookie dough ice cream.
But of course he had to be interrupted.
He set his bowl down on the kitchen table with a clink and shuffled toward the door. He looked through the peep hole to see the very last person he wanted to talk to.
“Go away, Eddie.” He raised his voice through the door.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I said go away. Don’t get a DUI on your way home.”
“I’m sober, Buck. I swear.”
He closed his eyes and steeled himself before he twisted the lock.
Eddie stood there, looking stupidly perfect with his gelled hair and a henley that defined his muscles and jeans that Buck knew hugged his ass well. Not that he had spent that much time staring at Eddie’s ass.
Eddie had his hands held in front of him as if in surrender, his brown eyes wide and slightly glassy but with a coherence that Buck hadn’t seen during their last two off-the-clock encounters.
Buck left the door open and turned, picking up his bowl of ice cream on the way back to the couch. He plopped down right where he was before, but he didn’t reach for the remote to unpause 10 Things I Hate About You.
He heard the door shut and Eddie’s careful steps as he came just into Buck’s peripheral view. He saw how Eddie’s hands twisted together, how he shifted his weight. Buck kept his eyes on his bowl, the scrape of his spoon remained the only sound in the room.
“You said you wanted to talk, so go ahead. Talk.” Buck snapped.
“Can I sit?” Eddie’s voice was small, tentative.
“Go ahead, you’ve been in the habit of doing whatever you want anyway.”
“Buck,” He implored, “Please, just look at me.”
He dropped his spoon, Eddie flinched at the clatter. Buck couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was consumed by the fury and self-loathing that had been brewing since the moment he woke up alone in Eddie’s bed.
“What?” Buck growled, rising to his feet. “What could you possibly have to say now? Are you gonna tell me you love me and then ignore me for another week?”
“No-”
“Am I gonna have to keep picking you up from bars every weekend and tell Chris to call me instead if he needs anything?” His voice grew louder, he couldn’t control it.
“What? No! I-”
“Are you gonna kiss me again and leave me just like everyone else?” He knew he must’ve been red in the face. He hadn’t felt this enraged since having dinner with his parents, begging them to love him anyway.
He never thought he’d be begging Eddie, of all people, to do the same.
Maybe he was this rabid dog, this kicked, beaten, starving thing that only knows how to lap at his wounds, to plead for attention and bark, claw, and bite at any potential threat.
He had every right to be angry. This idea of a best friend, a companion, a partner, for eight years, overturned by a single week of vexation.
Buck had gotten close enough to smell Eddie’s breath and, true to his word, there was no hint of alcohol.
“I’m not leaving you, Evan.”
He studied Eddie’s face, trying to find the smallest hint of dishonesty and coming up empty. Eddie grabbed his hand, held it like something precious. The dog wanted to claw, scratch, maim, but Buck didn’t have the energy. Here he was again, falling victim to Eddie’s gravity.
“I’m so sorry, for everything that’s happened in the last two weeks.” Eddie continued, “I got caught up in my head and I didn’t realize you were becoming collateral damage. You didn’t deserve that.”
“What’s been going on, Eds? I can’t know what you’re thinking if you don’t talk to me.” Buck had been ghosted before. He was sick of feeling haunted.
“I- It’s… hard to explain.” Eddie stuttered. Buck’s frown deepened, but Eddie shook his head, led them both over to the couch, and tried to explain again. He never let go of Buck’s hand. “Do you remember when I finally shaved my mustache, and I told you I had this weird conversation with this priest?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“He told me that I should choose joy. And… I’ve never been good at that. I grew up being told that any pleasure was a sin, and I mean, Shannon and I got married so fast because Chris was on the way and then I went to war to try to provide for my family, and I never got to figure out what I really wanted. Ana and Marisol were just so good for Chris that it didn’t matter what my feelings were and just…”
Eddie paused to take a deep breath and catch Buck’s gaze with his own. Buck deflated, his shoulders lowering as if all the fight had been sucked out of him. Eddie continued.
“When me and Karen had our wine night, she told me I sounded jealous of your ex. It was like my whole world shifted. I realized she was right, and I realized… and then you came over and I didn’t think I just… and I didn’t know what to do except try to avoid it and that wasn’t fair to you. I… I don’t know exactly what this is for me, I don’t know if I’m gay or bi or something, I only know that I love you. I love you so much it scares me.”
Buck’s mind was spinning, a giant whirlpool spiraled within him, thoughts and feelings getting pulled into the undertow until an ocean of intensity threatened to blur his vision.
“I don’t want to be something you’re afraid of.” His voice shook slightly.
“I’m more terrified of losing you.” Eddie squeezed his hand. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Buck, I may not be the man you deserve right now, but… I want to become that man. If you’ll let me.” Eddie’s hand reached up to cup Buck’s cheek, his thumb rubbed away a stray tear and Buck couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “Can I kiss you?”
Buck hesitated for just a moment and nodded, leaning in to meet Eddie halfway.
The kiss was perfect, unblemished by the taste of wine. Their lips moved together in harmony, hands met skin gently, unhurried, purposeful. Eddie guided Buck backwards until his head rested on the throw pillow. He trailed delicate kisses down the side of Buck’s throat then buried himself in the soft juncture of Buck’s neck and shoulder. Eddie’s arms wrapped around Buck’s torso and Buck’s arms around Eddie’s, they laid together, embracing as they made up for two weeks of distance.
In time, Eddie would come out to his friends and family. He would ignore his parents’ snide comments and disapproval. He would learn how to choose joy, time and time again.
The pair of partners would fall back into sync with each other. Eddie would earn Buck’s trust again by staying and telling him, showing him that he was wanted.
He would love Buck publicly, unrestrained by fear.
He would love Evan with a clear mind and an open heart.