Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

By the time Buck realizes that this whole thing might be a semi-bad idea, it’s only because he’s a couple weeks’ worth of pent-up due to losing access to the best sex he’d had in a long time. 

And alright, maybe ‘best’ is an exaggeration. 

Maybe he’s catastrophizing a bit with that one. 

Obviously, a large part of that was the newness, the things he had never (or only rarely with the right adventurous woman) experienced before Tommy. On some level, he knows that none of it was Tommy-specific. Hell, it’d probably be ten times better with any man who actually takes him seriously, taking their sweet time to learn what makes him tick, what gets him the most amped up, but also respects him for purposes other than his value in the bedroom.

It’s just hard to go from having a romantic partner to spend a lot of that time with, to having zero outlet again.

And it’s only made harder by the fact that his body is clearly confused by the sudden change. 

Now he’s sharing a bed with his best friend semi-regularly, and every time said friend is getting more and more shamelessly physically affectionate.

It’s getting colder out. Must be why. 

They’re always at Eddie’s house—it’s cozier, has better water pressure for Buck’s increasingly long showers these days, and has more space than the loft, even if it still feels a little bit empty without Chris.

Again, they fall into this routine that just feels right. 

Taking turns cooking, though Buck gets more turns as lead chef because they both like it better that way. Mixing their laundry together. Eddie does the dishes while Buck takes out the trash. 

Things that should be boring, and they feel so natural that Buck doesn’t think twice about them until he lays them all out at the same time like this and it sounds like a lot.

Buck going straight home to Eddie’s house at the end of their shift is nothing new, they fall back into it post-Tommy like it’s their default state. They finally work their way through that sexless dating show, and start the last season of the Bachelorette—the woman chosen was one of few who didn’t shamelessly proposition them when they had that call at the mansion last year, so they’re rooting for her to find true love.

And after they eat, watch a mindless show and laugh at each other’s commentary, maybe drink a beer or two, without any discussion, they just both end up on their respective sides of Eddie’s bed. 

During the day, nothing has changed. They don’t talk about this new normal aside from planning logistics, like can Buck be at home Friday afternoon because the HVAC repair guy could only come during Eddie’s weekly therapy appointment, or can Eddie get some more of Buck’s favorite cereal for home since they’re almost out and he’s already doing the 118’s grocery run that day.

At work, they have the same efficient camaraderie as always. The main difference is they both have more energy than they have in a while, but especially Eddie. 

He’s doing noticeably better—actively starting light-hearted conversations, his smile is more genuine, he’s eating three meals a day and is happy about it. In addition to actually sleeping through the night, it probably correlates with the fact that Christopher is seeming more and more open to talking (always to Buck and Eddie together), and they even convince him to Facetime one night.

It’s unseasonably chilly for Los Angeles that night, and the HVAC repair guy was a no-show after all that. 

So they’re smushed together on the couch under Eddie’s thickest blanket, one his tía Pepa crocheted for him if Buck had to guess based on her recent insistence that Buck must let her teach him soon, and that she promises it’ll be the perfect outlet for all his ‘bounciness,’ as she calls it. 

His new therapist would probably prefer to call it ADHD, but Buck likes ‘bounciness.’

They call Chris from Eddie’s computer on the coffee table in front of them, and the first green flag that distinguishes this from the Great Failed Birthday Call Of 2024 is that Eddie’s parents aren’t there when the call picks up. 

The second green flag is Chris’s first question: 

“Ah. The mustache’s still going strong, huh?”

Buck bursts out laughing and leans against Eddie, as if he meant to bump their shoulders and he forgot they were already fully pressed against one another.

“Excuse me,” Eddie scoffs. “Um, hi, mijo, nice to see you, how’s life?” He says the next part in a mocking, but not mean, voice, “Oh hi dad, nice to see you too, life is good, what about you?”

Chris sighs lightheartedly, clearly holding back an eye roll. “Hi dad, hi dad’s mustache, hi Buck.”

“Hey buddy,” Buck responds.

“No Tommy this time, huh?”

Oh, right. “Actually, Tommy and I… ended things. Broke up. A little while ago now.”

Chris leans in, riveted. “You’re kidding.”

“Um, no.”

Then Chris bursts out laughing, and that laugh, even over the crackly speaker, that grin, even through the pixelated screen… it’s all Eddie. That genuine, uninhibited Diaz infectious joy. It’s so endearing that Buck can’t even be confused or offended that laughter is Chris’s response to his relationship ending.

“It’s not funny,” Eddie tries.

Buck shoots a half-assed eye roll his way, trying to signal a desire for levity. 

Chris catches his breath. “It’s kinda funny. At least the part where it was so insignificant that you forgot to tell me, hmm?”

“Okay, Christopher, that’s not—”

“No, no, Eddie, it’s okay, he’s right. Chris, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you’re right, there’s not a huge story there. He just wasn’t the right person for me, and I’m okay with that.”

“So did you find them then?”

“Huh?”

“The right person. Duh.”

“Oh, um.” Honestly, he hadn’t even really thought about getting back out there yet. He’d just been spending all his time with Eddie, and nothing else seemed any more appealing as of yet.

“Chris, let him be,” Eddie says.

“Alright, alright,” he holds up his hands as if to surrender. “Fine, how about you, dad?”

Eddie clears his throat. “You— you wanna talk about… my dating life?”

“I mean, I assume there isn’t much to talk about. How about life in general?”

And wow, okay, burn from a 14-year-old.

Buck just smiles encouragingly at Eddie, moving his hand out of his own lap to supportively brush his knuckles on Eddie’s knee for a fleeting moment.

Pick your battles , he telepathically communicates to Eddie. And as always, Eddie agrees.

Eddie talks a bit about how helpful therapy can be, but Buck can tell he’s dancing around any substantive content. Like he mentions in passing unlearning what he saw in model relationships during his formative years, and it’s obviously about issues his parents instilled in him. But Eddie, so much more good than his parents deserve, clearly doesn’t want to talk shit about them while they’re currently caring for Chris.

Chris talks a bit about school in El Paso, and when he says something about being glad he doesn’t have to stay there much longer because the teachers are strict and the classes he has to take are boring and he misses his advanced science classes, Buck can feel Eddie’s breath catch in his chest.

Buck jumps in boldly. “Yeah? You thinking you’ll be ready to come home soon?”

Chris smiles slowly. “At least by Christmas, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Eddie says breathlessly with a small laugh.

Other than the perils of school in Texas, Chris’s main complaint is that he won’t really get to celebrate Halloween later this month. Apparently Catholic school, or at least this one, isn’t a big fan, and his grandparents shut down his costume idea for his one new friend’s party because it was from a video game they deemed too mature for him. Once Chris starts yawning, Eddie reminds him he has school in the morning, no matter how boring the classes may be. 

Despite being through a screen, the way Eddie tells him goodnight is familiar, and it’s starting to feel like things might be barreling back towards normal around here.

Rather, a new normal, Buck supposes. 

Because if you had told Buck a year ago that he and Eddie would wordlessly be going to bed together (even if it’s not like that )... maybe it’s not that he wouldn’t have believed you, but he would have at least a few questions. Hell, even if you told him a couple months ago, he would have been confused. Mainly due to the whole having-a-boyfriend thing at the time, but regardless.

Normally, they both radiate heat at night, to the point where when it’s the two of them in such close proximity, they’ve found it’s comfier to only use a light blanket. Or at the very least, Buck runs hot and Eddie capitalizes on that, getting as close to Buck as he needs to to stay cozy himself.

Buck is never cold enough, or bold enough, to be the one to initiate any contact; instead, he waits for Eddie to and eagerly accepts it.

But this night, this unseasonably chilly night, Buck shifts almost to the dead center of the full-sized bed. Eddie’s calves instinctively part just enough for Buck’s left foot to nestle between them, seeking warmth. Slowly, but without hesitation, the rest of Buck’s leg, or at least the lower half, finds its spot pushed between Eddie’s, his knee ending up encased between Eddie’s thighs. It all feels softer than normal too, with Eddie’s flannel pajama pants and all.

When Buck looks up and meets Eddie’s eyes, only able to see the details of his face because of how close they are, it’s like the oxygen drains from the room and the temperature plummets.

Eddie’s settled in, his left hand under his pillow, and his right casually laying on the bed between their chests. He’s staring, wide awake, when normally he’d be trying to go to sleep right away. 

His pupils are like black holes, sucking Buck in. 

Must be because it’s so dark, obviously.

“What?” Buck chokes out, unable to blink and break the tension.

Since when do they have tension like this, Buck couldn’t tell you. But it’s there now, not ignorable, like a physical thickness in the air in the small space between them. 

“ What what?” Eddie rasps, the corner of his mouth turning up.

Buck might be imagining the microscopic movement of Eddie’s lower half towards him.

The silence is broken by distant sirens, an ambulance, growing closer. But Eddie just sighs, closing his eyes gently to take a deep breath, before opening them again just to stare again. It’s starting to make Buck a little unsettled, honestly, like he’s missing something. 

Or like Eddie wants to say something but is holding back.  

Buck isn’t sure why he holds his breath again while the flashing red lights intensify, coming in from the window at a perfect angle to illuminate the curves and angles of Eddie’s face, and to cause shadows that unfairly accentuate his features. At that exact moment, he can just make out Eddie running the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip in a self-soothing gesture of sorts.

The point is, unfair lighting with poor timing is the only reason his eyes fall to Eddie’s lips. 

That, and he couldn’t stomach to keep up the heavy eye contact anymore without either of them saying anything.

As the sirens fade, Buck commits to shutting this shit down and forcing himself to sleep. He bends his leg at a slightly sharper angle so he can comfortably rotate his hips and put weight onto his stomach just a bit so as to not face Eddie so openly and directly. 

However, that has the unintended consequence of bringing his knee up farther between Eddie’s upper thighs, to the point where the warmth is almost too intense. He feels more than hears his best friend’s sigh, almost crossing the line into soft groan territory. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t had the guts to resume eye contact. Meaning his gaze is just hovering between Eddie’s slightly parted, lightly chapped lips, only visible because Buck’s eyes have fully adjusted to the dark, and his throat, which he watches bob slightly as Eddie tries to swallow down that sigh.

There’s no indication that Eddie is going to say anything or move any closer, and Buck knows that if he lets himself think much harder about why the hell he feels this way right now, so magnetically drawn in like it’s where he’s meant to be, he might start tearing up or shaking or something. 

So he tries hard to shut it down, closes his eyes and evens out his breathing like he’s trying to fall asleep, and he thinks about anything else.

He thinks about Halloween coming up. His needy, romantic tendencies meant he already had thought up some couple’s costume ideas with Tommy even months in advance. But it’s probably for the best seeing as Tommy was unenthusiastic to say the least, since he didn’t know or care about any of the shows or movies they were from. 

He thinks about the last time he dressed up in a couple’s costume, not counting Crockett and Tubbs since they weren’t really a couple; it was with Taylor, who was at least somewhat enthusiastic about it because she knew she looked good in the skin-tight black outfit. 

He doesn’t think about how the idea came from getting caught staring at Eddie when he came home from a date with Ana, wearing a leather jacket that Buck had definitely never seen him wear before, and he had to come up with an excuse for the staring. Which of course his brain decided had to be that he was planning a Danny Zuko costume and wanted to borrow the jacket. 

He thinks about how he and Eddie have already loosely established their plans for this year to stay at home, watch scary movies, and hand out candy.

He thinks about the last time they took Chris trick-or-treating, not knowing it’d be the last time because he’d declare himself too old the next year.

He doesn’t think about every point of contact between his and Eddie’s bodies right now.

Eventually he must fall asleep because he knows the montage of him and Eddie trying on all those couple’s costume ideas he’d had for himself and Tommy must be a dream. After all, Eddie would never go for dressing as Allan, let alone Ken, nor would he generally entertain the Batman and Robin headcanon, and he hadn’t gotten around to Good Omens yet so he’d probably refuse to dress like Crowley without context for how hot he is.

When Buck wakes up in the morning, he thinks he’ll very soon forget that his dreams were so Eddie-centric like he always does, usually by breakfast.

Until he fully comes to and realizes where the best friend in question is.

Completely, entirely on top of him. No wonder he had fully infected Buck’s brain overnight, they’d practically fused into one person. 

Buck can’t even slightly shift his hips to get more comfortable without jostling Eddie, who’s practically ended up straddling him.

And look. Upon reflection, it’s not like he’s entirely inexperienced in what a dangerously homoerotic friendship feels like. Especially since his Big Bisexual Realization, he’s realized in hindsight that a not-insignificant amount of incidents with his male friends in the past were more loaded than he allowed himself to comprehend at the time.

He just figured that the inappropriately-charged moments like this with straight guy friends were done now that he was out and proud. 

After all, what straight guy would be comfortable like this?

But apparently neither Eddie nor Buck’s body got the memo, seeing as how he had become entirely intertwined with Eddie overnight (seemingly due to Eddie’s movements) and he has no burning desire to pull away.

That is, until his thigh twitches from the muscles having fallen asleep, and subsequently a very-much-asleep Eddie responds by pushing his hips closer, pushing up against Buck in a way that Buck knows he never would when awake. Especially if he could feel what was going on underneath Buck’s sweatpants in response to such movement. He knows he should try to decompress, cool it down, distract himself with thoughts of something tragic or disgusting or something, anything. But it’s like he’s too far gone, and he knows he only has one appropriate choice here.

He sucks it up and pulls his hand out of Eddie’s hair to instead fold under the back of his own head. His other hand is burning in its spot pressing against Eddie’s lower back, and he can only stomach pulling it away once he realizes it’s not helping the problem of Eddie unconsciously repeatedly rotating his hips impossibly closer to rub himself up against—

“Eddie,” he gasps, running that hand up Eddie’s side to grasp his shoulder and desperately, but hopefully gently enough to not be cruel, shake him awake. “Wake up,” he breathes into the top of Eddie’s head, which had been tucked against Buck’s neck.

At least he knows that in the future, with his 20/20 hindsight, he’ll see this as the right decision—putting a stop to this before it truly crosses a line he can’t in good conscience let his heterosexual friend cross. That’s how he gets through the awkwardness of Eddie coming to, realizing their compromising position, quickly shuffling away, making a tiny effort at small talk, and forcing normalcy as he all but runs to take the first turn in the bathroom.

Buck just sighs, folding up his other arm to also nestle underneath his head as he stares at the ceiling and tries to regulate his breathing.

When it’s his turn in the bathroom and he gets into the shower, he just tries to think about anything other than the feeling of Eddie, semi-hard, shamelessly pressing against him. Because it wasn’t Eddie, was it? It was biology, and the veil of sleep. Who knows what was going on in Eddie’s head at that moment?

But trying not to think about how it felt only forces him to think about the last time he felt exactly that way. Not just turned on from physical touch against his better instincts, but specifically the guilt, confusion, and almost unconquerable urge to keep going, to chase that pleasure despite knowing better.

His shoulders sag under the relief of the warm water, of being able to get his hand on himself.

In his mind’s eye, Eddie’s warm body pressed against him from head to toe turns into someone else, thankfully—the last straight friend who he’d had in that same position. And suddenly, Buck’s in his early twenties and in a twin bed, blanketed, straddled, by one of his many roommates. The one time he and Connor let themselves fall asleep together following their… mutually beneficial stress relief. 

The sheer strength with which this fleeting memory enhances his current arousal, and just how quickly he finishes because of it, reinforces his confusion on how he ever could have thought that every straight guy feels this way about their friends. 

And of course, the guilt afterwards isn’t as bad as it probably would be if he had fully thought about Eddie, like he’s had to actively force himself not to do one too many times recently. But he still has this sinking feeling of dread that Eddie is going to emotionally shut him off now, just like his previous friend did when they woke up like that all those years ago.

But of course, Eddie isn’t like that. 

Buck finds him cooking chocolate chip pancakes for the two of them. Buck doesn’t even get a word in before Eddie starts telling him about the LA Zoo newsletter he just got—how they have a special limited-time exhibit about native birds, and their evolution from dinosaurs which Buck helped Chris with a research project on once, and does he think Chris will be back in time to see it because it ends in January, and so on.

He just smiles and sinks into it, completely pushing any awkwardness from his mind, at least for enough time to enjoy a decadent pancake breakfast.

They’re off today, and usually Buck would get out of Eddie’s hair and spend the day at his own apartment (regardless of how it’s feeling less and less like home by the day) because it’s Eddie’s therapy day, and Eddie usually needs some space to decompress before and afterwards.

But thankfully he set himself a reminder that he also has therapy today. It’s monthly, and it’s only his second appointment, so it’s actually news to Eddie when Buck mentions it when they’re talking about what they each need to do today.

“When— um, how long have you been back in therapy?” Eddie asks gently. He probably remembers the inciting reason that he hasn’t exactly felt comfortable with it for a few years.

“Oh, y’know, just since my third day in a row bombarding Maddie at work last month needing a sounding board and she made a not-so-subtle suggestion.” 

In reality, she’d been sweet about it, and explained that she was coming from a good place—she wants him to get a kind of support that she can’t give him but a professional could.

At the first appointment, he’d explained to Dr. Hernandez (or Joe, as he asks to be called) how he recently went through this whole bi awakening but it felt like something was still missing. That led to them digging into his teenage years, then the ways that he overcompensated and sought contact and validation throughout his twenties, and his relationship with sex. Theoretically a perfect set-up for him to bring up this current conflict of how pent-up he is and why he isn’t super inclined to seek out relief anywhere other than Eddie. Or anywhere. Not Eddie. Not an option. Period.

Sure, he misses sex, but he doesn’t need a psychologist’s input on how he’s already resigned to take what he can get. 

If anything, he prefers his current set-up of sexless cuddling to his most recent relationship where physical affection was few and far between.

So instead, at this appointment, he talks briefly about the mainly inconsequential breakup, then circles back to the ADHD thing Joe had mentioned in the last few minutes of their first session. He tries to spend the whole time today talking about that and how it manifested in school for years and now at work. 

And it works. 

Until, yet again, the last few minutes, according to the clock on top of the journal-cluttered bookshelf next to Buck. Joe asks if he’s had success channeling his energy into creative or productive hobbies and he remembers tía Pepa’s suggestion about crocheting.

“Well actually, my— um—” he realizes he’s not sure how to begin to explain Eddie as he hasn’t brought him up yet outside of as a vague coworker, probably purposely. “My best friend’s aunt, she really wants to teach me to crochet, and Eddie, that’s my best friend, thinks it’s a great idea. For me and for Chris actually, because we’re so similar and we both always resort to video games for fun, which Eddie still kinda thinks will rot our brains.”

“Chris?”

“Yeah, that’s ou— that’s Eddie’s kid. I spend a lot of time with him.”

“With Eddie or with Chris?”

“Both? But Chris has been staying with his grandparents in Texas since May. They came and basically took him from— from Eddie, and like yes he asked but he was only 13, he’s 14 now, and the point is they shouldn’t have jumped at the chance to take him, y’know?”

“If I may ask, why did they take him?”

Buck shakes his head and laughs a bit to himself. “ That is a pretty long story.”

Joe smiles kindly. “Well, maybe you can tell me more about Chris and Eddie next time? Only if you’d like to, of course. It’s just—”

He trails off for a moment to gather his thoughts, which puts Buck on edge (which, granted, is abnormally easy for a therapist to do to him now but still) and makes him jumpy.

“Buck, do you know how much you perked up just now talking about them? You must really care about them.”

“Of course I do.” Buck clears his throat. “Anyways. Same day next month?”

When Buck finds himself yet again in his car, not knowing where to go and only knowing it’d be nice to see a living, breathing reminder that he has some unconditional love in his life, he thankfully has slightly more control this time. Instead of showing up to his older sister’s job, he very civilly texts her: dinner tonight? or tomorrow or the next day!! lmk <3

While waiting, he decides to do some grocery shopping for his apartment, however minimal. When he sees the craft supplies aisle, he can’t help but snap a picture of the yarn selection and text it to tía Pepa: Ready when you are. Let me know what I need?

By the time he’s done, Maddie’s responded: Tonight works! Feel free to bring Eddie if you want :)

He doesn’t think twice about the offer until he arrives alone and is greeted by not only Maddie and Chim, but also Josh and a fourth person who he learns is Josh’s boyfriend Carson.

It’s definitely more approaching dinner party vibes than he expected, but by the time they sit down and start eating, he realizes he should’ve had faith in Josh’s taste because this guy is chill enough that there’s no awkwardness, not really.

Even when Josh’s… eagerness to support Buck starts rearing its face.

“So, Buck, how are things in a single, post-bi-awakening world?”

Buck laughs to himself. Sure he’s single, but it’s not like he’s making any efforts to change that. “Honestly, not that different than being single pre-bi-awakening. Still feel like I’m just waiting for something to… fall into my lap.”

“You gotta get out there, man! Start meeting new people—” Carson says.

Buck’s pretty sure Josh lightly kicks his boyfriend under the table, though he couldn’t tell you why, before butting in, “Hey, so Carson and I are going to this super queer Halloween party, you should totally come if you’d like, dip your toe into the community and all.”

“Oh, um. I appreciate the invite! But we kinda have plans already…”

“So bring Eddie!” Josh exclaims. Buck doesn’t question how Josh knew who ‘we’ was.

He thinks on it for a moment. Sure, it could be good, he could even meet a non-straight guy and redirect all his recent… feelings about whatever warm male body is nearest, which has been automatically Eddie of course.

Then Chim decides super helpfully to contribute. “Eddie Diaz? At a gay Halloween party? Isn’t that like… disrespectful?”

Carson and Josh both look at him, confused. “Why would it be?” Josh asks.

“Because… he’s straight?” Buck supplies.

They all sit in silence for a moment, various eye contact switching around like they’re all having a conversation about something Buck isn’t clued in to.

“Not a worry,” Carson eventually says. “All are welcome, even… allies.”

In the end, Buck turns it down for the both of them, but vows to let them know if he reconsiders.

After they eat, chat a bit, and each have a glass of wine or two, Buck finds himself in the kitchen putting everything in the dishwasher when Carson comes in with the last of the dishes.

“Tag team?” Buck asks, and they smoothly finish the rest of the cleanup in assembly line form.

“I’m glad I finally got to meet you, by the way. I’ve heard so much from Maddie and Josh— all good things of course.”

And wow, Buck wishes he could say the same, but in all honesty he’s been so caught up in his own head that he hadn’t even known Josh was seeing anyone. For now, he just dries his hands off and crosses his arms, leaning back against the sink, as he catalogs this new discovery of selfishness as something to bring up in therapy. And he says, “I’m glad too! Josh deserves someone good, y’know, and you seem to fit the bill.”

“Thanks, man. And hey, if you change your mind about Halloween, or you ever just wanna tag along with us to a gay bar or something, any time, let us know! I’ve totally been where you are, and however long it takes you to be ready, it’s nice to have an ‘in’ to queer life in the city.”

And sure, the last part makes sense, but something gives Buck pause. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’m not ready , y’know?” It’s not like he’s hung up on an ex who simply turned out to be a bad fit. “I’m just busy on Halloween, that’s all.”

“With your ‘straight’ friend?”

Buck still wants to give this guy the benefit of the doubt, but it seems like he’s about to veer into territory of speaking on things he doesn’t really know about.

Until he says next, “Like I said, I’ve been there.”

“What do you mean?” Buck asks meekly.

“Nothing bad! Just… things can change, or aren’t what they seem in the first place. I mean, hey, you realized pretty recently too, right? I thought I was straight well into my thirties. We both know to keep an open mind. That’s all.”

Buck’s not sure if he can get on board with this whole ‘seeing potential queerness everywhere’ thing, even though he’s now an out and proud bisexual and actively reframing all his life experiences so they make sense. 

If anything, he’s gone the opposite route, making an effort to constantly remind himself that everything Eddie says and does somehow just reaffirms heterosexuality.

And he’s gonna keep that up, he’s not the kind to assume anything about anyone until they explicitly say it. Nevermind that Eddie’s never said he’s straight, that can be the exception to make this path of thought more coherent, alright?

Speaking of Eddie, Buck realizes it’s been radio silence from him all day. Now that he’s wrapping up here, he’s not sure if he’s going back to his place or to Eddie’s. And now that he thinks about it, what happens when Eddie is ready to jump back into dating and wants to have a girl over? He basically never could, with Buck over all the time. Worse, what if that’s now and he just doesn’t know because Eddie doesn’t want to hurt his feelings by kicking him out? 

That’s how Buck decides not to text first tonight.

He tells himself some space is healthy when he gets into his car and a yearning indie love song comes on.

He tells himself he’ll call if he needs me when he triple-checks his ringer is at full volume before getting in the shower.

He tells himself we’ll see each other at work in just a few hours when he doesn’t hear from him so he just curls himself around a pillow in bed and slowly, very slowly, falls asleep alone.

But he doesn’t know what to tell himself when he violently shoots up in bed in the early morning hours, panting, with fabricated memories, of losing his grip on Eddie’s hand on a nonexistent, terrifying call, quickly fading from his mind’s eye. 

The first thing he does is check his phone, and his heart sinks when he sees he missed one text at 1am from Eddie that simply says: Where are you?

It’s nearly 4am now, and all he can do is hope that Eddie’s fallen asleep since. He doesn’t wanna wake him up, so he doesn’t text, or call, and he definitely doesn’t entertain the idea of just showing up to his house, letting himself in, and climbing into bed beside him.

It’s only when he’s almost asleep again that he realizes Eddie has his Find My Friends location, so he made a choice to send that text even though he could have found the answer himself.

That’s when he becomes determined to make Eddie at least have a good day tomorrow (today) if he couldn’t give him a good night. Before drifting off, he shoots a quick text to Chris.

Thankfully, he’s gotten a response by the time he wakes up to his alarm, and luckily Chris did remember the name of the bakery with the decadent fruity pastry thing Eddie loves but would never treat himself to. So he thanks Chris, expedites his getting ready process, and rushes out the door in hopes he can grab one for Eddie and still make it to the house to pick him up before he just drives himself. He calls Eddie twice from the car but it goes straight to voicemail, which in and of itself isn’t too concerning. Especially because his car is still out front when Buck pulls up with more than half an hour to go before they need to be at work.

He checks his phone one last time as he lets himself into the house, and laughs brightly when he sees Chris’s last reply come through: i stg if he gets crumbs stuck in that fuzzy creature on his face, i am NOT helping him clean it out and you better not either

“Buck?” he hears drift out from the bathroom.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry, last night I was at Maddie’s and then—”

And then he’s at a loss for words because for some godforsaken reason, Eddie walks out into the hallway, wet, and in nothing but a towel that’s so small they usually only use it as a bathmat. It’s slowly shifting down, down, down on Eddie’s hips, almost falling off, and less than an inch from revealing way too much. It’s obscene. So obscene that he can’t look away nor can he remember where that sentence had been going. 

All that he can hear or see is abs, waist, chest, arms, thighs… abs, waist, hey remember when he was straddling you, chest, arms, remember how you know what he feels like underneath that towel, thighs —

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the fog.

Buck spins on his heel, unsure how long it took him to gather enough self control to simply stop staring and to face away from Eddie, or what Eddie tried to say in that time. “Sorry, um. You can finish getting ready, I’ll just—” he gestures vaguely towards the living room and moves back that way without sparing Eddie another glance.

“Okay… you alright?” Eddie calls, seemingly from his bedroom now, thank god.

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t sleep very much, just kinda… anyways. Um. I brought you that fruity thing you like! As an apology.”

“What the hell? You don’t have anything to apologize—” Eddie starts.

“No, no, I should’ve texted last night. I’m sorry I missed your text.” 

Eddie enters the living room, thankfully in long basketball shorts and a shirt that at least leaves something to the imagination. The arms are still an issue though, flexing as he runs the towel through his excessively fluffy hair, and the thighs aren’t exactly a non-entity either when he props his foot up on a chair to tie his shoe, then switching legs and repeating.

He thinks Eddie says something else that he misses, but he knows him well enough to know it’s definitely just dismissive, insisting Buck doesn’t have to apologize.

“Anyways,” Buck tries, once he can look directly at Eddie again because he’s fully dressed and almost completely dry. “Wanna ride together?”

It’s a small act of service, infinitesimal really. He knows Eddie’s a bit of a passenger princess at his core, for lack of a better label. So whenever Buck can give him a chance to not have to drive, he does. Also, carpooling is good for the environment or whatever.

Of course, Eddie takes him up on it, and enjoys his pastry in the Jeep’s passenger seat while Buck rambles about the charming little bakery, or the billboard for a new movie they drive past, or whatever else jumps into his brain.

He’s finally cut off by the notification sound of a text from Chris as they pull into the station parking lot. 

“Is that—”

“Oh yeah, Chris helped me out with the name of the bakery. I should warn you that he is really not a fan of the mustache, by the way. Used the opportunity to make a joke about it catching crumbs.”

Eddie chuckles fondly. “Well, it’s my face, not his.”

Buck can’t exactly argue that.

While they make their way towards the locker room to change into their uniforms, Buck opens the latest text from Chris and sees it’s a meme about different kinds of mustaches and what type of ‘cry for help’ they each are. He rolls his eyes, and responds sarcastically: hahaha.

Then Chris brings it up again later that day: wtv on dad shaving tho?

He’ll never tell Chris, but he has to google the meaning of ‘wtv’ and by process of elimination figures out he probably meant ‘what’s the vibe.’

So he responds: unclear. last I heard, he’s doing Freddie Mercury for Halloween, so not before that?

To play it safe, he sends a picture of Freddie Mercury in case Chris doesn’t know the reference, though he damn well should.

Chris replies: lameeeee that’s so lazy 

He’s not super wrong, as it’ll just require clothing items Eddie already has—jeans, a white tank top, and a belt. But Buck has to defend it: hey that’s a queer icon you’re talking about

They get pulled away to a call right then, which distracts Buck from the topic for a while.

It’s not until the end of their shift that night that Buck sees Chris’s last texts: for the record i support his whole journey or whatever, i just think it’s unsettling that to find himself he has to look like a cop. and also like abuelo mid-shave. but mainly a cop 🐷🐷🐷  

how about i hop on the next flight home as soon as i get a guarantee i won’t have to look at it

He doesn’t take that last part literally, but he keeps it in mind, and just replies: I’ll work on it 🫡

They go home to Eddie’s together on auto-pilot, and easily land on trying this new Thai place in the neighborhood they’ve been eyeing for a while.

They’re screening the recent Five Nights at Freddy’s movie, to see if it’s okay for Chris to watch, when Buck apparently turns Eddie’s world upside down during a critical discussion of how well Matthew Lillard has aged.

“You’ve really never seen Scream? Ever ?” Eddie is practically shouting.

Buck smiles nervously. “No? Since when are you so into horror movies?”

Eddie blubbers. “It’s— how can you— it’s Scream !? It’s a classic.”

That’s how they decide on a Scream marathon as their movie choice for Halloween tomorrow, or, in Eddie’s words, at the very least the first two so help me god.

Buck wakes up before Eddie the next morning, so thankfully he’s able to turn around in Eddie’s arms so they aren’t pressed front-to-front, and he can decompress and separate their lower halves sufficiently before his best friend wakes up. 

He’s increasingly hyper-aware, having overthought the implications, complications, and potential consequences of acting like this with a very heterosexual friend now that he’s out and single. 

Not that Eddie would ever think of him as, like, a perv for it or anything, but in recent days as he’s been overthinking, he’s also been reading stories online of same-sex friendships not surviving one of them coming out. The last thing he wants is to make Eddie uncomfortable, or even just make him think hard enough about it all to start pushing Buck away out of caution.

But this morning at least, they’re fine of course.

They go through the motions of a day off, making sure all the dishes and laundry are done and put away, trash is taken out, etc. 

Eddie almost sends Buck to buy the candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters before coming to his senses and realizing Buck will get way too much if not monitored. So they go together, and also splurge on this pumpkin-flavored beer they’d both make fun of in public but end up enjoying that night as they queue up the first movie.

“Okay, game plan,” Eddie starts, and Buck hadn’t realized they’d need one for something as straightforward as Halloween but hey Eddie looks captivating enough in the too-tight jeans and tank top that Buck would probably listen to anything he said tonight. “If the bell rings again, I’ll get the door alone, so you don’t miss anything.”

Buck laughs, thinking it can’t possibly be that serious, but something in Eddie’s resulting glare tells him it is. 

How Eddie can glare so seriously at him despite his ‘costume’—sparkly cat ears borrowed from Maddie and eyeliner whiskers that Eddie carefully drew on for him—Buck doesn’t know. 

But he does know he’s pretty proud of them for finding costumes lowkey enough that they could hand out candy all afternoon and evening without feeling like they were completely phoning it in.

Eddie only gets up to hand out candy twice before giving in and just putting the bowl outside with a hastily-scribbled ‘please take one’ sign, then turning off the last few lights and settling in pressed against Buck. And pretty quickly, Buck gets really invested. Yes, it’s a cheesy 90’s slasher, but he can see how it’s the cheesy 90’s slasher for a reason. 

But Eddie is physically close enough and present enough that Buck almost feels guilty about his realization that he’s not necessarily invested for the plot but rather what very well might be one of the hottest toxic couples he’s ever seen.

He can’t stop his slight gasp at the cheap jumpscare of Billy popping up in Sidney’s window, and if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie was failing at holding in a laugh at his expense.

“Hey, she’s not gonna die, right? She’s way too pretty, she’s gotta be the final girl. And there’s so many sequels—”

“Shh,” Eddie interjects. “Just watch. And pretty people can surprise you.”

That’s karmically reiterated when Buck is too distracted in the next few scenes by swoopy hair, large strong hands, and wide brown eyes to catch on quickly to Billy being absolutely nuts. 

So it’s only when he starts saying the really fucked-up stuff to his girlfriend that Buck starts to adjust his predictions. “Goddamnit, you couldn’t have warned me he was a gaslighty psycho before I fell for his stupid charm and… perfect, chiseled face?”

He kind of trails off at the end, entranced by him again. 

Eddie shuffles in place and just hums rhetorically, “I know, right?” 

Buck doesn’t allow himself to fully entertain the thoughts that Billy and Stu’s tension is sparking. They’re just best friends, and both a little crazy. Or, it turns out, a lot crazy. And even crazier, the tension he senses is very much valid, he realizes by the time they’re covered in blood in the kitchen and practically pressed up against each other, threatening to stab Sidney, stabbing each other. It’s all very not subtle.

“Did they mean to—” Buck starts, not knowing fully where he was going with that. 

Eddie just clears his throat and waits until seemingly the ending of the last scene to say anything more.

“Now do you see what I was getting at? Not only is it a horror classic, but frankly I was just shocked you didn’t come across it when you did your big, queer-coded media deep dive a couple months back. Like, even as an ultra-repressed teenager watching it, I caught on to that vibe. Um. Anyways, I knew you’d like it.”

And that… well that’s just really thoughtful, isn’t it?

 “Also the whole pretty people thing, like you said. Trust me, you’re not alone in the frustration when Billy turns out to be— anyways, yeah.”

And that’s just really… interesting. Eddie basically calling a guy pretty.

“Anyways, we can watch the next one, or if you want we could just watch something else with that same actor if you like him, maybe there’s some other queer-coded stuff, I think there’s at least one about witches or something—”

Suddenly, a bang from outside behind them makes Buck jump so hard that he almost knocks Eddie over. “Fuck! What the—”

Eddie instinctively wraps an arm around Buck’s shoulder, pulling him closer protectively but not able to stop his smile breaking through. “Calm down, it’s just the trick-or-treaters.”

Great, so his heart is beating twice its normal speed just because a child tripped on their cape or something. 

He forces himself to not show any signs of being startled, pulling away from Eddie. “Right, of course. Um, we can just watch the next one in the series? Appreciate the allyship, though.”

“Allyship? Oh. Right. Sure!” 

At that, Eddie sets it up and gets them each another beer.

All he can think about when he sees Courteney Cox in this one for some reason (perhaps related to the warm body pressed against his and the fourth beer in his hand, only balanced out by some candy) is his old roommate. Not Connor, the other one. The one who was obsessed with Friends, always watching it to the point where it was still playing in the background at least the first three times they made out. It started just like this, cuddled up under a blanket together, drinking, with Courteney Cox on the TV.

And okay, maybe that’s a cheap overreach to make that connection. 

But sue him, he had Eddie pressed against him for two hours of homoerotic bestie bros going on a killing spree with the most… phallic-associated M.O.

Towards the end of the second movie, Eddie ducks out to the bathroom during some scene on the quad that’s dragging on, and Buck takes the opportunity to stretch out and try to distract himself by checking his phone. 

He clicks through Instagram stories; he likes Hen’s adorable picture of Mara and Denny showing off their candy haul, he watches a few seconds of Josh and Carson dancing together amidst overwhelming bright colors and lights (and he’s reaffirmed in his correct decision that such a party was not his cup of tea), but then he lands on Connor’s story. 

Because the universe has a shitty sense of humor.

It’s a picture of him and Kameron. He doesn’t recognize their costumes (they might be detectives?) but the caption says, “undeniably best bi4bi couple on TV, so naturally we had to” and that’s… something. Then there’s three heart emojis positioned between the two of them gazing lovingly at each other: pink, purple, blue. 

And now he’s just confused.

Because Connor is straight. Connor is straight the same way Eddie is straight, and that roommate who loved Friends is straight, and okay maybe the nameless guy from the bar bathroom wasn’t all that straight, but the others were. That's why what they did wasn’t a big deal. Regardless of Buck’s feelings, they never saw it as more than friendship. Connor. Eddie. None of them.

“Buck? What are you thinking about?”

He tunes back in to find the TV paused and Eddie perched cautiously, thankfully a foot or so away from him, on the couch. “Oh. My roommates,” he offers, unintentionally cryptically.

Eddie starts looking at him like he’s absolutely lost it, so he realizes he has to clarify.

He looks down to find his phone still open to Connor’s Instagram where he had been rewatching the story. He opens it again and hands it to Eddie. “Remember Connor, and his wife Kameron?”

“Yeah, of course…”

Buck just gestures towards the phone now in Eddie’s hands, and Eddie looks at the story again.

“Okay?”

“I guess… I’m just not sure I’m interpreting that right. How would you take it?”

Eddie crinkles his nose and squints slightly, like he’s confused. “That they’re both bi?”

“The characters, right?”

“Sure, but based on the caption, also Connor and his wife. Or am I, like, way off base there?”

Buck shrugs defensively. “I dunno. I thought he was— He was supposed to be— Because we—”

Eddie leans back ever so slightly. “You didn’t know?”

“And now I feel stupid. For multiple reasons.”

Eddie pauses, piecing some things together. “You said roommates, plural.”

Buck’s instinct is to roll his eyes, to deflect, but honestly, it’s time. 

They’re nearing the end of their night so it was inevitably coming to Buck’s worst overthinking time when he pretends like the naturally falling into bed with Eddie feels painless and not more and more intimidating by the day.

“It’s not even important, not really. But when we lived together, which feels like forever ago now, we were… close. Like… closer than friends. Except, not. Because we were just friends, regardless of all that.”

“What do you mean?”

“No matter what I did with him, or my other roommate later on, it didn’t mean anything. Because we were straight. Or… at least they were.”

“Oh. Buck—”

Buck shakes his head frantically because that usually works to rid him of the thoughts. But it doesn’t this time, and he just sighs sadly. “It’s not even about that. Not really.”

Eddie’s questioning eyes, deep and dark enough to sink into, might kill him right now. 

“I spent the last few months rethinking everything, right? Once I realized I was bi this whole time, I had to work through this whole journey of accepting that I wasn’t some— some sort of creep back then, like subconsciously manipulating or— or preying on my straight friends. Especially because inevitably they just… left… my life. In both cases. I’m making it sound more dramatic than it was, it really wasn’t that deep. It’s— it’s just that it started so innocent. We’d meet and I’d misinterpret attraction as, like, jealousy. Then we’d get abnormally close in the blink of an eye, and would be platonically touchy, then they’d ask me into their rooms and it was just to— to be together, but then I’d cross a line without knowing it and we’d end up, like—” 

Buck stops himself before he says anything more, but based on Eddie’s sharp inhale and shuffle to the end of the couch, he’s getting it. More than Buck wanted him to, really.

“Um. I didn’t—”

Eddie shoots up to his feet, and for a split second Buck has no idea what he’s going to do next. Which is terrifying given he usually knows what Eddie is thinking. 

Then he moves towards Buck. Buck slowly looks up to meet his gaze, cheeks and eyes burning, and Eddie just grabs his arms and pulls him to his feet, then pulls him in tight, completely enveloping him.

Perhaps the last reaction Buck was expecting in that moment was for Eddie to hug him like his life depended on it, but he does. 

And the whole world softens. 

Buck carefully raises his arms within Eddie’s embrace to wrap around his waist and return the hug.

“You never did anything wrong. Ever ,” Eddie practically grunts into the side of Buck’s neck. 

They stay like that for longer than necessary, probably. Until Buck’s breaths are entirely steady, at which point Eddie just pulls back enough to hold his shoulders and look him in the eye meaningfully.

“I know I— I can’t fully understand because your experience is not my experience, but… I can promise you that whether it was… I dunno, experimentation or serious feelings, and whether they turned out to be straight or bi or whatever— you were all young people exploring and making your own decisions. And if the friendships ended, that’s— that’s an old story for you. Okay? It’s done. No more being left. Maybe I can only speak for myself, but I can tell you that you’re not gonna cross any line that makes me leave. I promise.”

Buck must sound petulant, childish, pushing out into the air between them, “How can you know that?”

“Because no line like that exists for us. For me.”

And how does Eddie sound so confident in that? The last thing Buck feels right now is confident, it’s more like he’s bared a part of his soul he didn’t even really know was there until now, that he’d never really voiced.

“However I can prove it to you, I will,” Eddie basically whispers. 

The only other sound is distant laughter outside, and the only light is from the TV screen stuck on what Buck is pretty sure is a shot of Ghostface but he can’t check because that would mean looking away from Eddie’s face, away from how honest and good he looks. Good as in kind, genuine, safe. Not literally good-looking. That too, obviously, but he doesn’t even notice it anymore because it’s such a given.

Except, it’s hard to not notice when Eddie’s holding him in place by his shoulders, so he can’t look away.

“You won’t leave?” Buck asks one last time. 

He shakes his head slowly. 

Buck decides to hug him one last time to seal the deal, a quick one this time. “Thank you,” he breathes out as they separate, Eddie keeping his hands to himself afterwards this time.

Eddie clears his throat. “Um, did you want to finish the movie?”

They sit together again, noticeably not touching this time, and by the time the movie is done, it’s late enough that everything is still and quiet and they should probably get some sleep. Buck ignores the tug in his gut telling him he should at least offer to go home, or to sleep on the couch even though he hasn’t done that in weeks.

Instead, he wordlessly takes the first turn in the bathroom. When he looks in the mirror, he’s reminded that for the entire conversation they had, he had fucking cat whiskers drawn on his face. Lovely . Once they’re gone and he’s changed into comfier clothes (his t-shirt and one of Eddie’s countless pairs of loose shorts), he makes his way to bed and climbs in first.

He stays sitting up with the bedside lamp on, determined to make some progress on the book he’s currently reading slowly but surely, and waits for Eddie. But even after he finishes the chapter, Eddie never comes, and Buck doesn’t hear him out in the living room anymore.

Curious, he puts the book away and tentatively steps out into the hall.

“Eddie?”

“In here,” Eddie says through the closed bathroom door.

“Um… you good?”

“Yeah, yeah, come in.”

He turns the knob really slowly, giving Eddie time to finish… whatever the hell he might be doing in there.

And his first thought is: how the hell did Eddie manage to put him in this situation twice in as many days?

This time is slightly better than a tiny towel though, at least Eddie’s wearing boxers, with wet hair, and his face glistening too. A suddenly very mustache-less face, Buck might add. Eddie rinses off his razor and gently dries his face, and all Buck says is, “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s grin falters momentarily, not looking away from himself in the mirror. “Is that a good ‘oh my god’ or…”

“Uh, yeah. You look—”

Their eyes meet in the mirror, Buck hovering behind Eddie.

Here’s the thing. Buck never considered himself a big fan of the mustache, not really. But he didn’t have any issues with it either. He jumped in on the jokes because they were undeniably funny, and it’s not like they were really at Eddie’s expense. Because the reality is he had looked good with it, like really good. Like a pornstar sometimes, sure, but usually like a guy you’d catch yourself staring at at the gym. Or like Freddie Mercury. It had brought out his eyes, somehow, and definitely his full lips too.

But at the same time, it’s like Buck had almost forgotten how stunningly beautiful Eddie looks bare-faced too. 

He looks years younger all of the sudden. Like he time traveled from when they first met, back when all Buck could think, staring at his strong jaw, flawless skin, and big eyes which you can’t help but imagine pleading for… something, was ‘this guy must be a model.’ His hair is styled the same again now, slightly better if anything. His bare torso, just like the first time he saw him, drives the point home that his captivating physique has only improved over the years.

Buck can’t help himself, in one movement he crosses into Eddie’s space and reaches up to ever-so-gently cradle the far side of his jaw and turn his face towards him. 

His thumb comes up to brush over Eddie’s top lip, totally smooth. Eddie’s lips part and he lets out a tiny sigh. Buck can’t look away.

“You look like you did when we first met,” he forces out, in awe, still speaking to Eddie’s lips rather than him as a whole. It’s like all the feelings from that day are back with a vengeance, flowing through his veins, but in the context of knowing what it can mean now when he thinks another man is sexy.

He feels Eddie’s words form under his palm, “Huh, when you hated me?”

That gets Buck’s attention, his eyes shooting up to meet Eddie’s, only Eddie’s are now aimed south of Buck’s eyes. “I never hated you,” Buck says softly.

Eddie’s piercing gaze finally moves up to meet Buck’s, and it’s like the suspended reality with the thick air and heightened senses that they usually only enter when in bed together has somehow expanded to include the bathroom too. “Fine, when you were jealous or whatever.”

Buck finally drops his hand and forces himself to cross his arms, because he doesn’t have any more excuse to be caressing his best friend’s face now that he’s confirmed how smooth it feels. He doesn’t back away though.

Then he absorbs what Eddie just said and frowns. 

“I think that was only a small part of it.” He’s not sure how to explain that it was a pattern for him back then—being scared by his own overt attraction to a man and overcompensating by forcing it into the mold of something else, competition usually, like if he could out-perform the other man in masculinity, it’d be equivalent to conquering the crush.

Especially after everything they already talked about tonight, the last thing he wants is to actively remind his straight best friend that Buck’s attracted to men and any interaction therefore could very well be interpreted as predatory.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth pinches in that way he does when he’s thinking hard about how to word something. “Is it like what you were talking about earlier?”

Buck thinks back to their earlier conversation about his past homoerotic friendships. He doesn’t want to misstep, and he’s not sure exactly what Eddie is referring to. “What part?”

“The internalized homophobia. Or, I guess, biphobia? That’s a thing, right?”

And okay, woah. 

Pause. 

Because why does Eddie know what internalized homophobia is? Buck’s pretty damn sure he’s never even said that phrase out loud himself, let alone to Eddie.

“Uh, yeah. But how do you— I never called it that? Since when do you know— know what that is?”

And like a deer caught in headlights, Eddie makes a break for it without blinking. 

At first, Buck is terrified that he somehow crossed a line by questioning him, and he’s gearing up to apologize as he follows Eddie out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. “Wait, Eddie, I didn’t mean—”

“No, no, it’s just— I read about it,” Eddie says. “In the book you left on your bedside table when you finished it— it was a while back, so I forgot the name…” 

He bends over, shuffling through the drawers on his side.

“Aha!” he exclaims, shooting back up with the book in his hand. “This one,” he hands it to Buck and takes a triumphant seat on the edge of the bed.

And oh yeah, it was a book Hen had recommended to him, after he opened up to her about feeling insecure in a relationship with someone more experienced who’d been out for much longer. It was about coming out later in life, short essays written by an assortment of queer people, interspersed with some more scientific psychology stuff to explain it.

He looks from the book in his hand, up to an anxious-looking Eddie, and back down to the book. 

“You— you read this?” 

Eddie blushes. “Yeah, I mean, the rainbows on the cover caught my eye and I just thought maybe it’d be helpful to know how I could, um, be there for you? But then I— I skimmed the table of contents and there was that chapter by the gay guy who grew up Catholic and, like, how he reconciled that, and I dunno, I was… curious.”

Buck doesn’t know what to do with that. Eddie Diaz, famously straight and not a big nonfiction reader, went out of his way to read Buck’s queer book. To be there for him . 

And… wait. 

“Curious?” Buck sets the book down on the dresser behind him without looking away from Eddie and sinks down onto the bed next to him.

Eddie stares down at his feet on the ground and sighs. “So… picture this. After Chris had been gone a few months and I had been seeing Frank and still wasn’t making much progress, I finally let Frank ask about the whole… Kim thing. Like, where it came from. And Shannon, and what I’ve spent the last however many years looking for, what I was hoping to find. And he asked me to list out what I wanted to find in a— in a partner, other than just being a good parent to Chris. I hadn’t let myself think past that, maybe ever, since he was born.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. 

Buck, still not sure where exactly this is going, can’t stop himself from offering some reassurance. “That makes sense though, Eddie, he’s— Chris is everything . That— that tunnel vision, it came from being a good parent, you know that right? If I were you, I’d do anything to make that kid happy too. But you know now that you also deserve happiness at the same time, right?”

Eddie looks up at him, eyes soft and shoulders releasing some of their tension.

He just nods, then continues.

“Yeah, Frank hammered that into me. So, like I said, he was having me list the qualities in my ideal match, y’know, and it’s like: a collaborator, who I don’t need to explain myself to. Someone who knows when I need support and what kind. Someone who is there, actively engaged in our life, but also will just hold me and let me hold them, where spending any kind of time together feels natural. Someone passionate, who can make their interests like the most captivating stuff ever, who wants to learn to love my interests, and doesn’t mind knowing more than me and sometimes having to teach me things. Someone who’s competent, mature, capable, smart, funny, fundamentally good, someone who— who can fix things, who can fix me when— when I feel broken.”

That one hits Buck right in the heart.

He desperately wants to fight back, argue that Eddie has never been and never will be broken in any way, but he has a feeling Eddie has a specific point he’s trying to make and he doesn’t want to detract from that.

“And after I poured out my heart and soul just like that, Frank just said…” 

Eddie laughs to himself even though none of this seems funny.

“All he said was, ‘So how goes the latest home improvement project you and Buck are working on?’ And for the first time, god help me, I knew what he was getting at immediately.”

Buck is left breathless but somehow utters, “What?” It’s like Eddie’s big, brown eyes that Buck can never say no to are burning a hole through Buck’s own irises, but he can’t tear himself away. 

“He started with the someone who fixes things part, he remembered that you had literally worked in construction—I’ve always talked about you a lot, sorry I didn’t tell you—then he asked if we work well together on calls, and Buck, I realized that you’re the one who knows what I need before I ask for it, giving me a hand sometimes before I even know I’ll need it. In— in a lot of ways.”

“Are you—”

“Wait, sorry, but I, um, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to say this so I— I just gotta get it out. Just— picture it, alright? I’m in Frank’s office, and then the whole world turns upside down because he asks me, ‘so why does this partner have to be a woman?’ and it clicked that I had quite literally just described my best friend but using female pronouns. And that this thing I was waiting to find , we’ve spent the last few years making it. And I couldn’t think of any boxes that— that you didn’t check for me other than that one part, gender. And I thought about it, really thought about it, and he’s right. There isn’t a reason, not a real one. Not one I believe in anyway. And then suddenly, I realized the world hadn’t actually turned upside down, it was just right-side up for the first time.”

And that is a feeling Buck can relate to. When he realized he could go on a real date with a guy who had just kissed him, everything looked different, but like how it was supposed to look the whole time.

“I saw it all in a different light, Buck, I felt it all at once. The… magnetic force drawing me to you the first time I saw you, it was the first time I let myself acknowledge the undeniable beauty of another man. It sounds silly but I swear to god it terrified me knowing I’d have to see someone so gorgeous all day at work and I could never do anything about it. The aching feeling in my chest when I’ve seen how you talk to or about Chris, how you haven’t hesitated to raise him like your own. The angry burn in my gut when you date people— other people. The absolutely earth-shattering fear buzzing in my head when we get separated even for a moment on a bad call, because I can’t imagine a world where I don’t have you. The way my— my heart beats faster when you touch me, yet I get the most restful sleep of my life in your arms. And I finally confronted something I think on some level I’ve known all along: I have never felt these things about anyone else.”

Vision blurring, Buck doesn’t realize a tear must have escaped until it rolls down and splashes onto his hands shaking in his lap.

Suddenly, Eddie seemingly loses all this newfound confidence, and shrinks in on himself. “Oh, I— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve—”

Buck manages to move a shaky hand to land on Eddie’s thigh closest to him. And Eddie doesn’t pull away. “Eddie. Just— are you being serious? ‘Cause I never, ever thought it was possible that you were feeling the same things I was feeling. That— that I feel .”

Because he does, and always has. 

Since they met, he has always had some sort of love for Eddie Diaz, and maybe what that looks like has evolved over time, but it’s still one of the only constants in his life. 

Eddie takes a shaky breath in, and Buck watches his toned chest—still bare because the universe has it out for Buck—rise and fall.

Buck thinks about Josh and Maddie asking him the same question Frank asked Eddie, what he wants in a partner. How he has always known he wants someone who makes him feel comfortable, safe, supported, respected, seen, and loved. Someone who knows what Buck wants, and Buck knows what they want. 

Eddie… wants him?

They haven’t broken the torturous eye contact. Neither of them are crying, per se, but Buck’s eyes are still a little wet and he can tell by staring into the big, brown depths he’s so familiar with that Eddie similarly feels the weight of what’s happening after so long.

“Buck…” Eddie finally breaks the stillness, dissipates the thick air that envelops them in this room, and suddenly Buck can breathe, he can move. 

His free hand lands on Eddie’s jawline again, hovering for just a moment before moving to rub his thumb over his bare top lip again. That’s what he breaks the eye contact for, to watch Eddie’s lips part again. 

He’s not sure what else there is to say, other than: “Chris is gonna be so fucking relieved about the mustache.”

Eddie’s laugh, his beautiful genuine, uninhibited laugh, reins Buck’s thoughts back in.

“Personally, I think you look hot either way, you know. But this way, um, there’s no risk of beard burn, you know, if, um…”

Eddie, his best friend, his apparently not-so-straight homoerotic relationship, leans in. “Can I—”

“God, yes,” Buck borderline moans out, more relieved than he’s ever been, as he closes the last of the gap between them.

He should have known that once he got the first taste of Eddie Diaz, his best friend, his partner, once he felt those soft lips against his, he’d be ruined for absolutely anything else forever.

“Let’s go to bed?” Eddie forces out in the split second between their frantically deepening kisses.

It’s the first night that Buck and Eddie share a bed but get almost no sleep.

Nevermind Christmas, they have Chris back home in time for Thanksgiving once he hears the news.

First about the mustache, obviously. And Buck was right, he’s really fucking relieved. 

But his happiness in that moment pales in comparison to his sheer overwhelming joy when he hears next that his dad sorted some shit out that he was clearly clued in to somehow even before Eddie himself was.

They have a family Thanksgiving-adjacent meal—when Chris comes back to school in LA, they’re learning about Native American history and he subsequently insists on not celebrating actual Thanksgiving, bless his heart. So Maddie and Chimney are the first people they tell , after Chris. And of course, they get a similar reaction of relief, like they had been waiting impatiently for this.

That’s when it comes out that Maddie had asked Josh for advice about ‘a hypothetical recently-realized bisexual who doesn’t know that he’s in love with his best friend’ multiple months ago, which explains a lot about Buck’s interactions with both of them since then.

Of course Maddie’s known for a while. 

Chimney turns out to be a bit of a wild card, though, as he hadn’t seen this coming any time soon, since he just thought they’d mope and pine for the indefinite future, which Eddie half-playfully shoves him from his seat at the dinner table upon hearing.

None of the others are surprised, per se, when they tell them all within the month. There are two particularly pleased therapists clued in too.

Eddie comes out as gay, and after talking it over emotionally with Buck, grows the courage to tell some of his family—just his sisters, abuela, and tía Pepa for now. The latter then privately makes Buck promise to come over immediately so he can get started on crocheting a Christmas gift for Eddie. 

There’s still always going to be some work to do. On themselves, their individual pasts, and what it means that they have taken on a slightly different role in each other’s lives now even if it feels like it was a long time coming. But establishing and perfecting this new normal, with Chris home with them where he belongs, and Buck letting the lease run out on his loft because that was also just a matter of time… it helps make everything that much easier.

This life they’ve made together, ups and downs included, and the uninhibited Diaz happiness that washes over Buck every day, it all makes the world that much brighter.